The transition from being in California then coming home to New York has been harder than I anticipated. Don’t get me wrong, it is nice to be in my own bed again. I love the familiarity of my daily routines. Spending time with my New York friends after not seeing them for a wile has been wonderful. I even enjoy being back at work. Still, something feels amiss. I feel less sure of a lot of things. I feel a little lost between two worlds, neither of which I seem to fully belong to right now.
As I walk through the hustle and bustle of the city I find myself missing leisurely walks by the ocean, seeing the stars come out at night, feeling connected to the earth in a more grounded and natural way. I live a block from the East River and a five minute walk from Central Park, I have nature at my disposal. And yet, it somehow doesn’t feel the same. While I love living in the city, amidst everything, I also yearn for a quieter pocket of the city, one with a few more trees and a little less construction.
I spent the morning online looking at apartments for rent in Brooklyn. I have been contemplating a move from Manhattan to Brooklyn for several years now. Part of me thinks I could learn to love Brooklyn. I already spend a lot of time there because I have so many friends who reside in that borough. I started with a twinge of excitement, looking at all the pictures of empty spaces, imagining how I would arrange and decorate different spaces. Then, as I was looking at the apartment with a bathroom that boasted black marble walls and a mirrored ceiling, the weird feeling that always overcomes me when I think too long and hard about moving to Brooklyn hit me. It’s Brooklyn! It is not the city. Could I really live there? It’s almost too homey. If I am going to live in the city I am going to live in the city, not in a cityish area that is mere minutes from the real city. And then the pull of exploring the idea of living Brooklyn begins to creep in again.