...eyes up...

(Friday, March 21)

Home again, home again...

It's hard to believe that spring break is over and we will both be heading back to work tomorrow. We have returned deliriously spent.

Andy is a huge Seinfeld fan, so we took the subway to Tom's Restaurant for breakfast. Afterwards, we walked around Central Park, before catching a cab back to lower east side for some shopping. We ducked into a few stores before arriving at Tiffany and Co.

As promised, Andy bought me something extra special so as to remember our trip. It is utterly dainty, exactly my style, and I feel just as delicate when I wear it. While this was certainly an indulgence, perhaps there are times for indulgence? I'm thankful that Andy can sense in which moments to be extravagant and which moments should remain simple.

We learned a lot on this trip.

Andy learned how to hail a cab. After a discouraging start, he began to watch New Yorkers to see how it was done and then began to imitate them until he was successful. Isn't that life? Stepping out into the din and raising up your hand for what you want, what you need, instead of waiting for it to fall into your lap? Undeterred by how you might look or how you think you might look or how others react or how you think they might react?

It was a challenge to stand back and watch him fail, watch him get frustrated, cross his arms and refuse to do anything. Too often we step in on someone before they have the chance to build up the courage. In the end, he successfully did exactly what I knew he could do all along – two times! My hero!

One lesson that we both had to learn: to look up. We had become dependent on a cell phone GPS to guide us to our destinations, but it was only able to get us so far.

In searching for a subway station outside of Bryant Park, the dear GPS kept insisting, “You have arrived. You have arrived.” but there was no subway station in sight. Agitated and annoyed, I stomped up onto some steps and surveyed our surroundings. In that exact moment, the hoards of people cluttering the streets parted like the red sea and, pasted on a distant wall, I could see the colored circles indicating the presence of a subway station.

In life, we can miss important, sometimes imperative, details if our eyes are constantly looking down. Where is your gaze fixed?