Day 13: I Discovered a Day-Trip Hike in New York

I've been longing to do this since I came to New York! Before I moved here, I lived in a rural area that abounded in natural beauty, and as I drove to and fro, I caught glimpses of scenery through my windshield — of shrimp boats resting in glassy bayous, their nets catching the falling sunlight, or of goldenrod and saw palmettos crowding around pools and arching underneath cypress trees. Despite the beauty of the scenery, however, I felt disconnected from nature because it was difficult to find places where I could hike, swim, or explore on my own. When I moved to New York, I was excited at the possibility of taking the commuter rail to various trailheads and parks outside the city. 

There was a rumor about that a couple of friends would be interested in doing just that on Saturday. As the day approached, I began to feel a familiar sense of anxiety that no plans had been made. Would the rumor remain a rumor? Would we hold off on making the plans until after we had already slept in on Saturday morning, thus rendering our trip an impossibility? As I finished my work on Thursday, I made a mental note to address this lapse AS SOON AS I returned home. Then I remembered my epiphany from Day 5: "My compulsion to be busy adds tension to my life and my relationships," and I decided to take that prescribed chill pill, and trust that the trip would happen.

As it happened, the trip didn't quite happen. A couple of friends decided that the hike would make it difficult for them to get to a family party later in the evening, and my best friend and I, worn out by the karaoke marathon of the previous night, had decided to leave the planning for the morning. When we woke up on Saturday, she was worried about her work schedule and needed to check her email and make plans for the coming week. I sat down to research commuter rail day trips, discovered how long the trips would be, and calculated how much time we would need to pack lunches, get dressed, and copy down directions and maps. We were a bit of a cyclone of anxiety and nail-biting. 

Finally, as if an angel had trumpeted the idea into my ear directly from heaven, I remembered a park in the Bronx, an easy subway ride away, that was bigger and more wild than Central Park, which I had not yet explored. Suddenly buoyed by this discovery, we finished our breakfast and chores; we picked out scarves and sweaters with relish; filled up our travel mugs and set off for Bronx.

What a beautiful, delightful, peaceful hike we had! We discovered rose-red mitten leaves fallen on the trail; paused to look at a pond through the trees; saw the sunlight cascade over a bank of smart weed, and posed for a bajillion pictures in our stylish autumn scarves. We walked clear across the park and came out dangerously close to the neighborhood where I'd had the hurling coaching course the week before, so I lured my friend to the Irish grocery store where we stocked up on sweets, crisps, and fresh-baked bread. 

HOW I LEFT MY COMFORT ZONE:

I had been really looking forward to this hike, so I struggled not to feel anxious about its happening. It would have been easy to let that anxiety cascade into grumpiness and resentment (which, I won't lie, I've done before). And in a lot of ways, this required being considerate. Several of my friends needed to take the time to be with their families instead of going on the hike. And since my friend was feeling worried about getting organized for her upcoming work week, I wanted to find a way to have an adventure that help her to feel refreshed and ready for the week, not a lengthy trip that would take away from her ability to do that. It's not so much that I went outside my comfort zone, but that I had to go outside my own desires and plans in order to invite and honor others. 

WHAT I LEARNED:

Sometimes you've got to plan ahead. My sort-of anxiety about making plans has been a major theme for me this year, and caused conflict in my relationship. I've noticed that I tend to get nervous when the weekend approaches and I haven't done sufficient research on all of the possibilities. I suppose I also consider my expensive New York rent to include a premium for the opportunities that living in New York allows. I'm not just paying for a place to lay my head and nearly-unlimited hot water, but also for access to museums, parks, Malaysian restaurants, and drum circles in Union Square. I feel a compulsion to get my money's worth by going for walks, trying out new food trucks, and generally staying busy.

Last week I learned that I need to relax and need to enjoy down time. I decided that I could put that lesson into action by not hurrying into plans for the hike. However, I learned this weekend that, sometimes, things don't get done if no one plans ahead. I enjoy adventure; I enjoy researching possibilities, figuring out the best route, and exploring every option. Planning ahead can be a gift; it can be the impetus that gets the group of friends together and lays the foundation for a good time. But a good time starts with an invitation, and the best invitation is one of joy, not one of anxiety. I need to acknowledge my gift for making plans and use it in a way that serves my relationships instead of taking away from them.

Day 12: We Rocked the Socks off a Karaoke Box

We had to danceoke to "Gangnam Style" because we can't sing in Korean.

This has been one of the highlights of my ongoing birthday celebrations: a few of my friends and I reserved a spot at a karaoke bar, a Korean style noraebang with private suites. We settled into the couches, flipped open the binders, lined up our favorite songs, and got to singing. It was like singing in the shower, or while vacuuming (one of my favorite pastimes), only with a disco ball and microphones. And if you took a shower or vacuumed for three hours.  My friends were very enthusiastic and brought such good cheer and true joy to our experience together.  

HOW I LEFT MY COMFORT ZONE:

Did I mention this was the most amazing thing ever? Yeah, I was in my element.

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY: 

When I posted photos from this extravaganza on Facebook, I started to caption them "private karaoke booth," and then deleted the "private." It just sounded too pretentious. I've never been comfortable with ostentation or special treatment - and fortunately, that's not too often a concern for me! But having a private karaoke suite for myself and my friends made me feel like royalty, or at least aristocracy. 

When my friends agreed to come along to the karaoke bar to celebrate my birthday with me, and when they unabashedly and happily joined in the singing, I felt honored, happy, and humbled. I realize now that this is what made me truly privileged: the company of good friends who truly wanted me to enjoy this birthday celebration. 

A few times in the past year I've felt so humbled by the blessings in my life, so undeserving of the graces that are given to me. I learned at this karaoke party that I want to give the people in my life the same chance to feel special, honored, and lifted up; to give them true and sincere friendship; to bring them joy.

Day 6: I Became the World's Most Unlikely Hurling Coach

Wow, today was quite a day. I'm the good kind of tired and my head is still spinning. On the spur of the moment, I attended a training course for coaches of hurling and camogie,* national sports of Ireland.  I have now completed my foundational level of certification for official Gaelic Athletic Association coaches. Believe me, I'm laughing good-naturedly at this. Attending this course was definitely a stretch (to say the least!) as I'm not particularly athletic and have only been playing camogie for a few months. But it gave me the chance to examine my relationship to organized sports and my place in the Irish diaspora.

The day began with registration at an Irish bar outside the city - at 9:30 AM. As I rode out of my neighborhood, with its fruit stalls, bachata music, and Dominican hair salons opening up for early morning clients, I felt a sense of flux. My feet were in two worlds, between my neighborhood's Irish past and Latino present; my family's Celtic heritage and the Latino community I've worked hard to learn about and serve through my career. My feelings of displacement continued when I arrived at the bar: I was the only woman there and the only American (besides some American born sons of Irish coaches). As I waited for the course to begin, I felt the unsettling feeling of not getting the jokes, or getting them a beat too late. I felt ridiculous, out of place, like an impostor.

As the course began, though, I felt my anxieties melt away, and I became caught up in the sessions. Our tutor, who had flown in from Galway especially for our course, emphasized the Gaelic Athletic Association's philosophy of keeping players involved, focusing on fun, and tailoring training to the players' motor, intellectual, and social development. I found that my background in training volunteers had natural parallels to coaching. And when I mock-coached a module on jab lifts, the much more experienced hurlers in the group listened patiently, encouragingly, and sincerely. 

HOW I LEFT MY COMFORT ZONE:

I felt like an outsider and an impostor, neither sufficiently Irish nor sufficiently athletic to be a camogie coach. I hope that my participation today will allow me to help my club to recruit more women for our camogie team; while I learned a lot, I still have a lot to learn and a lot of improving to do.

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY:

To get and keep people involved, make things fun and engaging. Gaelic games (Gaelic football, hurling, camogie, and handball) are heritage sports in Ireland that are up against competition from glamorous soccer and rugby; in America, they compete with those sports as well as football, basketball, lacrosse, and others. Promoting Gaelic games means fostering an environment in which everyone who wants to play has a chance to participate and contribute, and all enjoy their time on the pitch. And that foundation is necessary in order to build higher levels of play and exciting All-Ireland Finals that the whole country (and diaspora) want to watch. This has obvious parallels for my work recruiting, training, and supporting volunteers.

*(If you've not seen hurling or camogie played before, now's your chance! )

Day 2: I Started the Actual Spiritual Exercises

Guess what! After I hatched the plan for my Birthday Exercises, I found out I'd have the opportunity to undertake the actual Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola! The annotation my cohort is using was designed by St. Ignatius for busy ordinary working folk who weren't able to go on retreat for 30 straight days. Instead, the reflections are interspersed through everyday life over a 30 week period. 

Today was the day I had planned for my first moment. I was looking forward to a quiet evening in the apartment and actually spent a few minutes fantasizing about which pair of fuzzy slippers I could wear for the event. When I got home, however, I found that the apartment was much more abuzz than I had expected. There were roommate-lease-renewal discussions to be had; my tortellini took much longer to cook than I had the patience for; my neighbor's frenetic progressive jazz band had chosen this night for rehearsal, and I discovered many wrinkled blouses in need of ironing in my drawer. 

As I folded up my ironing board, I listened to my roommate's animated voices as they each finished phone calls in the hall or kitchen. This definitely wasn't the cool-cotton, soft-pajamas evening I had planned. And then my roommate cried into her phone, "Yay! Come over!" and explained that our concert pianist friend and neighbor was going to come over and practice on our piano. "If that's all right," she added, and we agreed. 

What I ended up with tonight was a chance to try out the idea that peace doesn't come from fuzzy slippers, or from pants without a tight waistband, or from the complete absence of honking or bachata or jazz music bleeding through windows and walls. I grabbed my pillow, my journal, and my guide to the Exercises, and I sat next to my roommate on the couch. I chuckled at the introduction that instructed me to "select an environment that will provide you some quiet and privacy," and dove in, while the joyful sounds of Débussy and Chopin fell around us.

WHAT I LEARNED TODAY:

"Our longings and desires, though often expressed in very ordinary ways, are signals to us for our deep desire for God." I'd heard a few times, from Ignatian spirituality, that our desires give us clues about our vocation or the ways we can best use our gifts. But reading this statement reoriented that attitude. Our desires aren't just clues to our happiness, which God surely wants for us; but rather our desires indicate the paths that will bring us to know God more deeply - and through knowing God more deeply, know joy deeply, too.

"Seek the Lord while he may be found." Of all the quotations and passages for reflections in this week's reading, I kept coming back to this one. It made me remember yesterday's experience of finding God in the Torah and the moments of joy that, with luck and grace, await.

HOW I LEFT MY COMFORT ZONE:

 I carried my journal and a prayer book into a room that was currently occupied by two other people. 

I was actually scared to commit myself to 20 minutes of prayer, without using a to-do list or a noisy environment as an excuse to skip it for the night. And I'm a bit intimidated by the commitment to do this over the next 32 weeks! 

Quotations from Carol Ann Smith, SHCJ and Eugene F. Mertz, SJ, Moment by Moment: A Retreat in Everyday Life, Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press, 2000.