After 14 weeks of being in school, I finally got something right. Now, I consider myself a fairly intelligent person. Theory is my thing; explain something to me, and more often than not, I'll understand what is supposed to happen. Practice, on the other hand, something I'm not so good at. I try too hard when it comes to the application of theory, and that screws me over in the end. But not this time.
I can't pinpoint exactly when it happened or why it happened or what made it happen. I know a lot of it can be contributed to the new friendships I've developed, which, over the last five months, have been my joy and saving grace. I was in class the other day, getting ready to perform my piece, and a voice in my head said, "It's okay, Gina, just let it fly," something my friends and teachers are constantly telling me. And this time, I actually did let go of everything - my fears, my insecurities, my resentment - and followed my head and my heart, simultaneously. I started to do things out of the blue, but it all made sense. I didn't feel trapped in myself and my uncertainties. I allowed myself to tell the truth, my own truth. And by God, it worked.
That one instance carried me through the week, and I miraculously began to nail it all. Class after class, I just seemed to get it right. Click, click, ka-boom, the pieces fell into place. The doubts are disappearing one by one. I'm going to fight desperately to hold on to this memory, this feeling, because this is the kind of thing I need to keep me going, despite the inevitable challenges I will continue to face. But nothing that's ever worth having comes easy. True story.
I was out tonight, roaming around the streets, and even in the midst of impending rain, I couldn't help but feel like the city was smiling at me. Welcoming me into its arms, celebrating my initiation into this select society. I learned to do what this city asks me and wants me to do: let go, dive in, and live for the moment.
I am, officially, a New Yorker.
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