more is more

I should probably do less

In the blink of an eye, it’s December. I actually cannot believe how fast the second half of the year has come and gone. It feels like just yesterday that I showed up to the Upper East Side apartment we rented over Facetime and discovered that all of the windows open to brick walls (a story for another time). Oh the joys and trepidations of international moves!

I had forgotten many things about New York City over the four years I lived outside of the US, but the main thing is its velocity. There’s nothing like it. One of G’s friends from Scotland refers to the city as ‘The Microwave’. Have you ever heard a more apt description? “How’s it going over there in the microwave?” he asks. In a way, that question gives me peace. Of course, it’s not easy living here. I’m in a microwave!

It goes without saying that moving back to New York has been amazing for my career. But the speed! I’m flying around town, going to two to three events per day, sometimes four, and then working on the weekend to get all my actual work done. It’s completely unsustainable but absolutely thrilling.

Every day I meet an intellectual hero. I was so starstruck meeting Yolanda Edwards that I forgot the name of the hotel I most recently stayed at in Scotland (it was Glen Dye in case you were wondering). I’ve been a long-time superfan of coolstuff.nyc and now I see darling Anna once a week. The New York City writing world that I passively watched from afar while in Spain and Scotland is now unfurling in my hands and it’s up to me to reach out and say hi.

That said, it’s a lot. I am physically sprinting to make it to all the things I have committed to, making subway mistakes (what I call when I go the wrong way on the subway or get on an express when I need a local) and running late to absolutely everything. It’s easy to get caught up into a “Keeping Up with the Jones” feeling of comparison and FOMO, which is a way of thinking I need to literally eradicate from my brain because it is so unbecoming. I have to trust the timing of my life and my extremely non-linear career.

When I start to get overwhelmed, I want to shut down and stop it all. Take a break. That is probably what I would recommend to a friend. “I think you should do less.”

But I’ve actually found at this moment, I need to do more.

More of the stuff that lights my soul on fire.

It’s so easy for me to fill my entire week sending emails and filing invoices and going to networking events and missing out on the stuff that makes my life meaningful.

I learned this firsthand when I signed up for an absolute beginners oil painting class through the 92nd Y on Thursday mornings at 10am. It is completely inconvenient and has also completely changed my life.

At first glance, there is absolutely no good reason to be taking an oil painting class in the middle of the day in the middle of the week when I’m already struggling to keep up with what I have going on.

But putting that on my calendar and refusing to schedule over it (do you have any idea how expensive oil painting supplies are?!) has helped me prioritize, manage time better, and remember who I actually am.

Part of signing up for that class came from getting clear on what makes me feel less anxious. Being around beautiful things, talking to older and wiser people, and learning something new all makes me feel better. My oil painting class ticks all of those boxes. You can imagine the demographic of people who can take an oil painting class at 10am on the Upper East Side on a Thursday. There is a great age diversity in my class!

Not to be dramatic, but the class has also changed how I see the world. I see shadows where I didn’t and can discern a depth of color I previously hadn’t noticed. I also challenged an idea I had about myself: “I’m bad at art” and flipped it its head. To be honest, I think my painting is pretty good for someone who hasn’t taken an art class since sixth grade.

It has also served as an important reminder to me to do things just for fun. (I will not be selling my paintings anytime soon). Not everything needs an outcome.

I’ve also started to anchor my days around being in beauty at least once. I try to move my schedule around so that I can work from an architecturally striking space like the Frick Reading Room or send emails from the New York Public Library, asking friends to meet for a lap around the Central Park reservoir or wander in the North Woods.

I take the same approach to socializing. There are people in my life who are beautiful, energizing, shiny people who leave me recharged and renewed when I spend time with them. I am drawing near to them. I’m making time to see them and I’m trying really, really hard not to cancel plans. Those moments are the things that make life meaningful. Even though I could have used an hour or two more of admin time, that hour I spent grabbing coffee with a friend energizes me in ways that nothing else can.

There was a time right before moving out of New York City where I put myself in bubble wrap. I didn’t go to anything. I was very self-focused. I drank my green juice and got 10 hours of sleep and was great at self-care. And in that moment, I needed it.

But at this moment I need something else. I want to taste my life. I’ve loved the conversation around the idea that “everyone wants a village, no one wants to be a villager.” In this season of my life, I want to be a villager. I want to feel part of something.

On the same vein of more is more, I’m also excited to share that G and I recently closed on a cottage upstate New York in Catskill. We saw it on Labor Day and absolutely fell in love with it. It took three months to close and over those months, I was sure that I was insane. I felt like we were biting off more than we could chew.

But then we finally closed and the last three weeks have been some of my most joyful since we moved. I have loved working on a project with G and getting it ready to host friends and guests all while enjoying it ourselves. (We will host our first non-friend guests tomorrow!) And the cottage is a tiny first step towards our future goal to open a boutique hotel. It has opened a million and one new administrative tasks, but it has also unlocked a new source of joy and fulfillment.

I write this all to say that sometimes, doing too much is overwhelming. Sometimes you need to do less. And sometimes, you need to do more of the stuff that makes you feel bigger than your body.

Because it’s amazing how easy prioritization becomes when there’s something you really care about.

I’m sure in another season, I’ll move to a different speed.

But for this moment, I’m spinning the plates and crossing my fingers that it all works out. As G and I always say, there’s no reason to live in New York City if you’re not going to take advantage of all it has to offer.

And at that, my friend, I’m doing my very best.