I have this feeling that New York City has a soul, and it knows that we’re leaving. In the past two weeks since I left work, this city has been so kind to me. The sunsets take over the sky and light up our walkway; the building lights sparkle in our direction at dawn. These magical parts of this city—they are talking to us again, and it's as if they know that we’re on our way out. They want to make peace—and give us one final collection of New York City moments.
Transitions. What a topic! But yes, they are happening at every corner we turn. We have exactly 29 days left until we take our one-way plane ticket to Tel Aviv. Other than plans to be in California for July and August—the rest will be TBD. We’re flying by the seat of our pants…and as you know, we've minimized those pants to roughly 2-3 pairs each. Cheers to trading stuff for adventure!
And more transitions: my last day at Birchbox was on February 19th.
Since leaving, I have been writing every day—a book of fiction that I’m determined to publish—along with some other shorter pieces…in addition to getting my wellness and career coaching business up and running. I plan to make these two things my main purpose and contribution as we travel. Luckily, I’m thrilled to self-manage and I am determined to use this time wisely. It is a gift of an opportunity, after all.
On one of my last days at work, I took a look at the view from the Birchbox office building, captivated by the windows of the sister building across the way. These are windows full of similar office cubicles that showcase one or two heart warming nic-nacs that make desk-sitters feel at home. They are full of people that look back at us, and likely see themselves—and it hit me for a moment that this is the New York grind. That’s what I have belonged to for the past 4-5 years.
Staring closer, I notice that there's a suit hanging in one of the office windows across the way—a change of costume, we could say, for the grinder—the costume of professionalism. Suddenly, the suit reminds me of all the heels stored under my coworkers’ desks—and I see very clearly the way we transition to the grind each and every morning.
This costume is one example of the life we're leaving behind. It's a costume that many people shine in—with pride and with character—when they put it on.
At the end of the day, everything we’re doing here is about pursuing dreams. For that fellow across the way, whose suit hangs in the window waiting patiently to be worn, that may be his dream costume, and that’s perfect. Today, mine happens to be pajamas—and I’m full of pride to wear them. Tomorrow? Who knows.
The last major transition was leaving Orchard Street. 4 months in that Lower East Side apartment passed us by so quickly. Though I didn’t write about it here too much, I can honestly say that out of all the places we've lived in NYC, Orchard was the one street that was most bright each morning when stepping out into the world. The Tenement Museum was right beside us, and it oozes history. We never made the time to actually take the tour, so Aviv and I plan to go for it next weekend. I love that there are Hebrew letters in the old 1800s photos hanging in the windows at 95 Orchard. That small street detail made me realize how much I value culture and history; how much I value being a part of it. Something to ponder for the future—because wherever the world we end up, I hope it’s a place with a strong story. I’ll surely miss that part of New York City.
Now on Mulberry Street in Little Italy, I never really dreamed that we would be spending so much time here between rows of Italian pasta joints and the wonderful waft of the Chinese fish market—which is magnificent by the way. We’ll definitely be roasting up a whole fish or two during our time here in this sublet.
So what can you expect in the month of March? A whole slew of New York magic, that’s what. I want to commit to sharing all these spectacular moments in this city. There’s a whole universe to discover out here, and I’m not taking it for granted. We’ll make it the transition to remember!