Category: Reflection

I always enjoy long walks. In the last few weeks, these outings on foot allowed me momentary sense of freedom and reminded me of the existence of others. On Easter Sunday, my friend Dave and I decided to walk across George Washington Bridge.

Bridges are Manhattan’s only connections to the outside world by land. Most people cross these bridges for work, for exercise and, from time to time, for sightseeing. Brooklyn Bridge is the most pedestrian-friendly and, therefore, the most popular choice for the locals and tourists alike. George Washington Bridge is the one closest to my home. A grand double-decked suspension bridge over Hudson River, GWB connects Fort Lee, New Jersey and Washington Heights of New York.^[1] The bridge itself is a sight to be revered. On one side, New Jersey Palisade cliffs stretch out for miles. ^[2] On the other side, clouds of mid-rise apartment buildings of Upper Manhattan counterpoise the natural beauty.

As much as I admire the bridge, I usually try to avoid being part of its heavy traffic load. Cars are either zooming pass as fast as possible or releasing exhaust fume in a traffic jam. Although there are pedestrian and bicycle passes on both sides of the upper level, the north side has been closed for years.

Yet, on this beautiful sunny day, traffic was light. There were plenty people walking or jogging to and from either direction, smiling and nodding politely while trying to avoid contact. Cyclists, perhaps suffering from cabin fever, seemed more aggressive than usual.

Except for a few slow-moving barges, the river was calm. New leaves just started coming out from treetops. Palisade cliffs, deprived of any natural covering, were stunningly edgy. Downtown Manhattan appeared dreaming from a distance. The northern tip of the island quietly struggled to wake up from the previous night. If not for the sirens and ambulances rushing by, everything seemed perfectly pleasant.

The sereneness of that morning, contrasting to the darkness of reality surrounding us, continues to haunt me.

---

^[1] George_Washington_Bridge_Wiki
^[2] The_Palisades_(Hudson_River)_Wiki

PAUSE is challenging New Yorkers collectively and individually. The hardest thing for me is the sudden disappearance of routines. To fill up my “schedule,” I quickly found a list of projects for myself. Most items on the list require long hours of labor and plenty of patience.

A few nights ago, after hours of gardening work—trimming yews to be exact, I cleaned up and was ready to make dinner. I noticed the Montepulciano d’Abruzzo, leftover from sauce-making, and poured myself a glass. Whether it was my dehydrated body crying out loud for liquid, or it was the low alcoholic content fooling me, I gulped down half of what’s in the glass in one breath. Then, I remembered that I hadn’t had much to eat all day, and I was starting to get a little tipsy.

Because of my work requires sharp awareness and precise execution, I have been a “social” drinker for years. Wine and liquor find their way into my kitchen as cooking ingredients. But I am not unfamiliar with the feeling of “under-the-influence.”

My knifework slowed down. My weary feet suddenly found rhythm as I dropped the ingredients into the saucepan. I was humming some unknown tunes and carrying on a monologue.

I wasn’t aware of the tension building up inside of me in the past weeks. I thought that I was managing things just fine. That was until I sensed a slight looseness in my attitude. I smiled and allowed myself to relax for the moment, nonetheless, with a sense of guilt.

I am among the most fortunate during this difficult time. I cannot fathom the struggles many others are experiencing. What I am capable of, as an individual, is so limited. . ..