Finding a Sense of Awe in the Middle of New York City
And getting lost along the way…
Awe is defined as “an overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration, fear, etc., produced by that which is grand, sublime, extremely powerful, or the like.”*
There’s this sense that something seemingly out of the ordinary can induce a state of wonder, and most people can reach this.
For me, however, the experience of awe is triggered in a slightly different way. As if anything could be the catalyst for this coveted, mini escape from the norm.
Reaching this feeling feels like the pinnacle of all my experiences leading up to it, as if my past (and all my pain, delight, losses and achievements) were enhancing it, making my reaction to life around me more vivid.
(Also, there’s something about venturing into a maze of wooded paths with no indication of direction that makes admiring a vast view, for example, even more special. It feels well-earned and much more appreciated.)
New York City isn’t supposed to be a source of contained serenity. The constant noise, bustle, unpredictability, huge population and overall mixed culture in general is like a volcano of chaos; albeit a great one.
It can bring out the best and the worst of us. Some solitude is needed for one’s sanity.
When I first moved here, I was supposed to be focusing on a “doing things that scare me” series as a resident in this “new” city. I saw it as a good way to challenge my comfortable habits and help jumpstart a new lifestyle; one which would include much more opportunity. I believed I needed a kick in the butt and extra ammunition in order to feel confident about tackling an intimidating and novel way of life.
But in the pockets of exhilaration and new sights, I found something better than pride, courage and strength from pushing my boundaries. I found… *drumroll*… awe.
It feels most like surprise, joy, wonderment and gratitude bundled into one; a stimulating journey out of (yet deeper into) reality.
It is peace.
I believe that focusing on an instance of beauty or strangeness creates a fleeting but powerful resting place for the mind; like a micro journey, fixating your lens a little closer into the world you inhabit. No drugs needed.
Nature, in particular, has been like art for me in the sense that it never ceases to amaze and inspire me with its beauty. It constantly makes me ponder the world and myself.
What could possibly cause this surreal, zen-like state of mind in the concrete jungle?
I asked myself that question on my way to Central Park one day, dodging the usual throngs of people rushing through their existence, amid some honkers, car-slappers and yappers along the busy streets.
(Central Park is quite literally in the middle of Manhattan. Hence, the name…)
My mission that day was to wander with no clear aim. I simply wanted to explore more of the (834-acre!) park that I haven’t seen, especially a large section called The Ramble, which consists of a plethora of walking trails and landscape features. It’s a 36-acre wooded area designed to mimic the forests of upstate New York, with rock outcroppings and darling blooms galore.
Finding it wasn’t too challenging, but I admit I felt a sense of pride intuitively figuring my way to the area, which is unimposing and easy to unknowingly pass by on the outskirts.
What I discovered wasn’t just a marvelous display of windy paths, diverse foliage and wondrous waterfalls. It was as if every corner I turned — every detail — was curated by some master artist intent on making wanderers pause with reverence.
I realize this curious embracing of surroundings is possibly due more to my state of mind, but the park makes it very hard to not be touched and uplifted by it, even on one’s darkest days.
During my wanderings that single day, I witnessed these little pockets of charm, embedded into the folds of my adventure like hidden treasures.
I saw vivid and often solitary flowers popping out from fences and trees scattered around, sleepy sunbathers, peaceful readers, a family of turtles sunbathing on rocks, children playing by the stream, a journaler sprawled out on a waterside boulder, happy dogs, benches made from trees, meandering bees, people playing catch in a field, an older man slowly admiring flowers, a couple kissing on a fancy bridge, painters, picnickers, photographers, admirers overlooking a calm and radiant pond, women enthusiastically discussing flora and hunting for flowers, a smiling woman feeding pigeons (some of which were also on her lap) by a brook, gently swaying shrubs.
I recall two separate instances of people talking about birds building a nest, and both groups enthusiastically stopped to ponder their handiwork.
As I wandered around a lake and continued to get lost on the paths, following each one on a whim, I noticed many others slowly strolling around and taking it all in in silence. There were many solo walkers with binoculars gazing pleasantly into their surroundings.
The level of serenity was intoxicating.
When I made my way back to a secluded sitting area, I stumbled into a Shakespeare Garden, which I previously had no idea was nearby. It had a stunning array of flowers displayed in artful clusters and strikingly placed in a maze of pathways, each section including lines and quotes from Shakespeare’s works. It was a recipe for tranquil reflection; meditation.
By the time I finally sat down on a bench, a ladybug landed on my arm and eventually settled next to me, as if to say, “It is grand, isn’t it?”
It was like a movie; a dream.
No hustle there. The only hustling done was by the birds. And maybe the squirrels.
There is just so much darn beauty. Not just from nature, but from fellow humans.
I think we’re all just seeking our own sense of beauty; charm; feeling; wonderment; connection; something greater; something grand.
This. This is what we need to fight for.
To search for.
The largeness in the smallness. The smallness in the largeness.
Amid the fear, doubt and ugliness, the overstimulation, chaos, confusion and pressure, we need to seek out the tiny graces. They come together in abundance to kiss our souls.
No cost. It’s free.
Freedom.
Freedom to stray, freedom to see, freedom to believe in something that can touch us in unexpected ways, no matter the form.
What a privilege. To just be.
In the city that never sleeps, where so many faces are scrambling for money, success, fame, or merely love… and it seems like a perpetual course in the game of “making it” in this life (with a lifestyle philosophy that is very sadly imposed on us by a shallow, one-size-fits-all-minded society)… away from the race, we actually have all it is we need to explore — shift perspective; discover something new; remain curious; journey past the norm and the usual — especially on the inside.
The most liberating idea is that no matter where we find ourselves, we always have the privilege of choosing where to look.
Whether we’re in a mad city or a tiny garden…
We can choose to be seekers.
Lost, then found.
*Random House Webster Unabridged Dictionary
