I've been pretty comfortable in NYC since I got here. I know I've hardly made that a secret. It took a bit to get my barrings when I first arrived in Brooklyn (only because I hadn't spent much time there prior - the borough has its merits), but especially once I got to own little space in Manhattan, I knew I was home immediately.
What has taken a while here wasn't being comfortable in my surroundings, but in my own skin. That may sound odd, but I suppose it makes sense upon further inspection. Any time you completely change your surroundings, climate and daily routine (job, city, habits, life...), it can take a while to catch up physically.
A couple of days ago, as has become somewhat the norm lately, I got home, did some yoga, hopped in the shower and prepared for an evening out. As I was headed out the door, grabbing a last swig from my water bottle, I did a quick glance in the mirror for a final check. I saw something I haven't really seen in a while-- a glimmer of myself looking back at me. Or, at least, the person who lives in my head and whom I haven't seen in a couple of years.
As my life has morphed through its many changes and my soul happily dove into the deep end of the pool without trepidation, my outer shell has still been sloughing off some of my prior life. Weight I'd gained from some medical stuff (thankfully behind me) is finally seeing a drop again (that which I'd lost immediately upon getting here was more due to just having the horrible meds out of my system than anything); I've been paying more attention to keeping my soul and body charged as a unit again. I also realized that some of my eating habits that had worked so well in California, keeping things in check, just didn't work with my lifestyle here (nor did I want to make it so).
Yesterday morning, I noticed the trousers I'd had tailored perfectly to that middle ground between flats and heels just over a month ago are suddenly dragging on the ground. Once snug, I can pull the waist away from my body several inches. Further proof to my theory that all one really needs to do to lose weight is to buy new clothes that fit. They'll be sagging in no time-- the perfect fake out to Murphy's Law. I'm not back to "normal" for me, and have some work ahead (this hasn't exactly happened by magic) but I'm finally seeing progress in the right direction again.
So, as the surrounding Broadway marquis have changed through their cycles, the leaves have grown, turned fiery colors, fallen and are returning to the promise of life again, it seems I too have begun to morph in more ways than I'd noticed.
One week from today, I'll have been here exactly a year. The honeymoon's not over.
(Dear Universe-- please do not take the title of this post as a challenge ;) )
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