It had been an exceptionally busy and stressful month. I arrived back in Pittsburgh from California late Saturday night, and we got in the car Wednesday morning and drove six hours to New York City to help a friend celebrate his birthday. The birthday celebration had originally been scheduled for 2021, but COVID had other ideas, so this excursion had already been postponed once.
Arriving at the hotel I note its palace ambiance; marble floors, gold appointed décor, crystal chandeliers. Multiple, black-suited masked staff greet us by offering assistance, and it occurs to me that this could be a vacation, a respite from home and work responsibilities. Entering our hotel room on the 47th floor I see the advantage of being that high up–no traffic noise, no taller building to obstruct our view of the sun. I am drawn to the enormous bed in the center of the room with its puffy white comforter and fluffy pillows. I must try it out immediately, before unpacking, before checking my emails, before getting dressed for dinner.
My husband had made some plans, restaurant reservations, tickets to a Broadway show, and a few calls to family members to organize a gathering before we headed home on Sunday. Looking back there was the plan and then the gifts that came unexpectedly as we carried it out. I suggested a visit to an art museum and Rich showed me a link to Ninety-five things to do in NYC. Just when I was about to give up the electronic search – too many choices, too little time, I found the Rubin Museum and the Mandala Lab-Where Emotions Can Turn to Wisdom. Inspired by Buddhist principles, the lab featured five thoughtful-provoking playful experiences. How could I pass that up? Arriving a few minutes before 1 pm we purchase our tickets and notice a poster inviting us into a writers’ group that’s about to begin. It’s being led by an artist/docent who will have us focus on images of the compassionate Green Tara followed by an opportunity to respond to writing prompts. We couldn’t pass that up either.
New York is full of memories for both Rich and me. As we walk most everywhere from the hotel, or grab a quick cab, I point out buildings I’ve lived in. As a professional dancer, I was in and out of the city so often I didn’t have my own apartment and moved 20 times in the first years. Rich points out the places he visited as a kid growing up in Queens and coming into the city often to see his dad at his Manhattan workplace. Sharing memories, we caught up with one another and couldn’t believe our good fortune that the party is being held in The Rainbow Room, one of our favorite places to dance in any city.
The family gathering at a restaurant in the village was larger than we first anticipated. One cousin who lives in LA was in town on business, another one who would usually be in Florida was in town to welcome a new granddaughter. We catch up with one another–the joys and sorrows since COVID has kept us apart, and when talk turns to war we learn or confirm that a city in Ukraine is where many of this family’s ancestors emigrated from.
On the final day of our excursion after invigorating activities, and bouts of complete relaxation and deep sleep in that amazing bed in our hotel room I found the words to describe the experience. We were watching a video of our minister friend Bob Wilson delivering a devotional to his church group. He quoted a concept he got from Jeff Foster, a spiritual teacher in England. According to Foster the word “depressed” could be understood as the need for “deep rest.” We began this excursion following a period of unrelenting stress and in spite of all the activity, “deep rest” is what we actually achieved.
