I write this lounging on a wooden chaise on the High Line as I watch the sunset. The evening is cool, breezy, some people are wearing sweaters – autumn is on the way. Helicopters circle above. The Hudson River ripples, reflecting the waning light. Apartment and office windows are lighting up. And I exhale. It is so nice to be up here on this peaceful, late-summer evening.
I realize that this feeling of gratitude I have is not that I am grateful I get to do these things — although people will say that singlehood is the time to enjoy your freedom, it’s a freedom that weighs heavily at this point. Rather, I am grateful that I do these things. I am grateful that I have the resources and a sense of wonder that miraculously pulls me along, even when I think it will surely fail me. I’m grateful for the energy and the inclination, for the mental freedom to enjoy experiences that make life more beautiful. I know that not everyone can, or can allow themselves, to do these things.
And these are my thoughts, as the sky darkens above.
