humanness
Being human is wild.
I recently was lucky to spend several days amidst the chaos of NYC. Staying in the Lower East Side and navigating the wild concrete jungle and its complex and mind boggling subterranean circulatory system. The small, remote island I live on is roughly 14 miles long by 3 miles wide, and Manhattan island is 13.4 miles long and 2.3 miles wide according to Quora.com. Here our year round population hovers around 300 going up to 2500 or so in the summer, plus gaggles of tourists coming and going. Manhattan on the other hand has its population of roughly 1.6 million with tourism returning after lock down to be around 5 million visitors a month. I couldn’t help but have gratitude for living amongst as many trees as there are people there. What a wild opposition and a refreshing dose of humanity.
While wandering down crowded streets, in the shadow of enormous feats of human creation I was simultaneously overwhelmed and in awe. A city is an amazing feat of human’s ability to create and build. The metro in NYC alone employs the same number of humans as the whole population of Duluth MN, the nearest ‘big’ city to my home. That is wild. It, to me, is more wild than the secluded wilderness on a massive Lake where I live. Wild in its ability to function without more routine catastrophes. Wild in its ability to sustain (for now) so many humans from so many ethnic backgrounds. Wild in how it is ran and organized, simply how it functions day to day. Wild in its soaring buildings, it’s cacophony of sounds at every second of the day, the millions of smells inundating your nostrils at any given moment. Wild in seeing a person living on the street, overlooked amidst the bustle on a block where the apartments are selling for 7 figures. Wild in how people’s nervous systems can sustain them while living amongst so much stimulation. Wild in how unwavering New Yorkers absolutely love their city, and rightly so.
Amidst all that beautiful chaos I kept wondering what the point of all this is? What does it really mean to be human? Where do I fit in to all of this? What is my purpose for being here? I, in essence, had my Carrie Bradshaw moment.
As a human who, for as long as I can remember, has been a very emotional and empathically sensitive being- overwhelm has been a recurring theme throughout my life. I don’t recall a time or place in my being where I truly felt in my bones, “yes, this is where i belong”. I have always felt other, outside, awkward. Being an introvert in an extroverted world is hard. Constantly trying to portray in some way on the outside what and how I feel to be inside, hard work, endless work, And adulthood… wow. How are we supposed to adult when nearly every adult I know is still very much stuck in some age between 2 and 16 years old? Somehow we do, and we raise children and pass along our unhealed versions of our selves. And the overwhelm of the last 3 years…. for all of us humans who have endured this ongoing pandemic and the onslaught of repercussions, unknowns, heartache, loss we all have felt, witnessed, read about, listened to, stressed over and somehow lived to tell the story of. Since 2020 I have been brought to my knees many times, I’ve sought relief in drowning myself in alcohol or whatever substance was offered my way, I’ve watched my partner spiral into despair after we endured our first parental death. I’ve been lied to, betrayed, and have many times been put in situations where I questioned my sanity, I’ve reacted in ways I am certainly not proud of. I’ve endured crippling anxiety, physical manifestations of trauma stuck in my body, depression, a nervous system on the verge of collapse, PTSD, and also Post Traumatic Growth. In what seemed like a moment, but was really years in the making, I witnessed the home and life I had built for a decade shatter and crumble into a pile of unrecognizable rubble and ash. From the smoldering ruins of what I had convinced myself was a happy life, I struggled yet tried, and still try, to rise. With a shattered confused heart, I moved my family far away from our external sources of pain, to deeply heal, even amid the confusion and stress of relocation, even with the hovering judgements and rumors and self doubt and shame. And with my still healing heart… I came back home again; navigating what at times still feels like a minefield of trauma triggers in each moment. Through my pain I have created things I am immensely proud of. Worked hard to grow a business that has brought me success and failures, and within that I’ve found a community of humans who support me for whom I am, no matter if I fail, and for that I am so deeply grateful. I have realized how quickly children grown, and I’ve watched them change, and wiped my tears at the beauty and fleeting feeling of it all. I have held it together and fallen apart in front of my children, I have had hard conversations, and have broken their hearts and cried more because I hurt them. I have gathered my self and gone to the darkest places within my self, and always at the depths of those dark places I have found little Hilary, 12 year old me, curled up and crying and scared. I have comforted my sweet inner child, and regularly check in on her and give her all the things she longed for and never received. I have suffered, I have realized that all of my suffering is mine to heal. I have lived through it all and for that I am grateful every day.
Amidst the chaos of that big city, I felt all of this. I felt that very same chaos that surrounded me was the same within, the city a metaphor for my being. My thoughts like the millions of people roaming those streets, always moving, always a sense of urgency, go go go, never stopping. At times all the thoughts in my mind, deafening like the sounds that surround and engulf you in the whirlwind of the streets. Sometimes it seems they are in multiple languages, messages I cannot translate and struggle to understand. Like the subway trains rushing through the world down below the streets, my anxiety and worry pulse through my veins. The overstimulation, a reflection of my need to care for my nervous system. The man on the street, with a can at his feet and a sign that says “I know I am a piece of shit, but I am also hungry”… a reflection of my own inner dialogue and longing. But yet, the city survives. It endures tragedy and hardship, it weeps, and mourns. For better or worse, it accommodates change, it rebuilds from the rubble, it sparkles in the darkness, it keeps going through it all.
I have not found the answers to my questions, but that city gave me clarity and new insights on some of my wonder. To have questions, and longing, and perseverance, and doubt, and heartache, and loss, and overwhelm and fear… to have it all within us at one time. To never have the answers, but to always seek them, to wonder what our purpose is, even if we never feel we have one, to each of us feeling alone amidst 8 billion others… to feeling the surge of anxiety pulse through our veins, seize up our stomach, and to be able to take a deep breath in, pause, and sigh it out. For me, that is the humanness that New York showed me within my self. For me, the awareness of my humanness is part of my purpose. The not knowing but showing up is part of my purpose. The breathing through the fear is part of my purpose. The forgiving through the ongoing pain is part of my purpose. The not regretting but learning from the past is part of my purpose. The letting go is part of my purpose. The being wild is part of my purpose. That trusting that even amidst the chaos, I will be OK, that is part of my purpose. Creating beauty from my hardships, that is part of my purpose. Sharing, with vulnerability is part of my purpose. Rebuilding from the rubble…. For me, going into the darkness without fear, knowing that light cannot exist without it, that is part of my purpose. Keeping curious even if I do not find answers, that is part of my purpose. And maybe, never feeling that I have “A Purpose”…. maybe being OK with that is also part of my purpose.
Thank you New York. Thank you to the crazy, wild city and all the beautiful people, sounds, smells, history, energy and chaos it holds. Thank you for giving me a sense of understanding purpose amidst your grandeur and wild and noise. Thank you for your humanness, and showing me my own.
I offer heartfelt gratitude to you for taking time away from your wild life to read my thoughts. I hope you found some value in the time you spent reading this. And thank you for showing up for yourself.
always love - Hilary