iv. Skies

Last week, I had a meltdown in Central Park.

The great and depressing thing about this city is its anonymity, its generous allowance to cry in public. Weeping among strangers feels like a rite of passage, like a necessary part of being a New Yorker. For better or worse, New York gives you the utmost freedom to shed a tear in the Shakespeare Garden or to walk, sobbing, across the Bow Bridge.

To be clear, the events leading up to this meltdown were entirely preventable. Several poorly chosen glasses of wine led to a restless night of sleep and waking up dehydrated at 4am. The next day, stressed and slightly hung over, I started to work on a report for a job interview. It was due the next day, and it had to be good. I didn’t doubt that I could write it, but I dreaded the amount of work I knew it would take. By the end of the day, all I wanted to do was dunk my head into a bucket of cold water and sleep. But luckily, after my cathartic breakdown in the park, I gathered enough stamina to sit down for three hours and write. It wasn’t a magical skill or a wave of inspiration that helped me compose a decent draft—it was good old fashioned endurance.

Creative work always asks more from me than I want to give. But when I stick with that difficult, durable process of patience, I discover riches that transcend talent or genius. Creating becomes an archeological dig: excavating instead of constructing, listening instead of speaking. When I stick with the words long enough and persevere through discomfort, I make space for something beautiful to emerge.

The unpleasant challenge before me, and before many of us, is the simple and excruitating work of sitting still and paying attention. Of refusing to microwave hard work or settle for anything less than the real thing. When I commit to wading through the murky middle ground of any difficult project, I eventually and unglamorously uncover the rare gemstones I seek. But first, I have to stay.

So here’s to giving more than we think we have. Here’s to staying, to trusting that what is on the other side of the work is worth it. 

For now, I’m accepting tips and tricks on how to persevere well. How do you not give up in the middle? How do you not lose your mind before getting to the good stuff? My inbox is open for suggestions. Maybe I’ll share a few in the coming weeks. Until then, I hope your second week of April is full of cherry blossoms and tulips and a few steps forward in the long, boring, infinitely rewarding direction of endurance.

Artistic Offering Pt. 1

A Liturgy for Those Who Cannot Be Good Enough

Oh Lord, deficiency is in our marrow
and decay is in our bones.
We have attempted godliness
and been found wanting.

Your faultless eyes scan the earth,
searching for one who understands,
seeking someone who hungers after You.
But no one is righteous, no, not one;
no one understands,
no one seeks You.
We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
each of us has turned to his own way,
and we are unaware of just how far
from Your goodness we have wandered.

We hardly have words, O God,
to convey the depths of our spiritual poverty
and our insufficient ability to earn Your favor.
If the wages of sin is death,
then we have justly earned our end.

Help us, Lord, for we do not know the way to life.
We have the desire to do what is right,
but lack the ability to carry it out.
Wretched souls that we are!
Who will save us from our destiny of death?

Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!
He is merciful though we fall short,
gracious though we were His enemies,
slow to anger though we repeatedly stray,
abounding in love though we deserve condemnation,
relenting from disaster and releasing us from a debt that we cannot pay.

Holy Father, we cling to Your character, of more worth than gold.
We accept Your grace and the honor of being Your ambassadors.
We treasure the good news that sinners can be reconciled to You.

Like the thief who hung alongside You on the cross,
remember us, Lord, when you come into Your kingdom.
We cannot not reach You by ourselves,
but You bridge the gap between us with Your body and blood.
The old has gone, the new is come.

---

Artistic Offering Pt. 2

This ChangeLab podcast about the theology of making, of not allowing great things to be made small.

What I’m Reading

Last Week:
Joan is Okay by Weike Wang
Coming out Spring 2022!

This Week:
World of Wonders by Aimee Nezhukumatathil
Nature, memoir, essays; the trifecta of literary perfection; loveliness in every sentence

This Week in New York…
Spring has sprung

• A man in full Shakespearian garb plays a renaissance guitar on a bench beside the Great Lawn.

• The tulips in the Roosevelt Garden are in full bloom.

• A man spits on my friend while she walks home from the grocery store and she forgets to care until a half hour later. 

• An Uber from LaGuardia to my apartment is over $100 dollars at 10pm.

• Sunshine pours through my window as I lay in bed for two days with a stupid cold.

• The LabQ van on 97th Street comes in clutch once again with the most efficient PCR COVID testing process I’ve ever experienced.

• Manhattan feels like home even on sick days.