Sitting on the A train, heading downtown from Harlem. Living my dream. Heading to a niche New York eatery and an evening of art. From this dream I would edit the 12 hours spent in an emergency room in Queens. Hours full of distant moans and pleas for God, hallways lined with beds and curtains creating makeshift rooms, and glaring lights at 3am. But that’s the thing, I spend so much – too much – time editing, that the moment passes and another has come along while I am still obsessed with preserving the first. Like when I’d wait too long to raise my hand in class; someone else gets rewarded with ‘good question’. I lower my hand, the moment passed. In the world of blog posts, the moment lives in the purgatory of the drafts folder.
So what of the dinner at the East Village pop up with an entire menu devoted to mushrooms? What of the subsequent show at Joe’s Pub where I may have been in the midst of a moment of musical history? I was in the room the night the global hit was first played. Have I waited too long to share? Are these moments mere footnotes to the story of navigating healthcare and wellness in America?
Full disclosure. These moments are now 2 weeks old. Through some glitch of technology the original musings failed to upload, the post they were a part of was never published. The weeks have been filled with moments of note, the extremes of loss and jubilation. My intentions on how to edit and frame it all are moot, I’m reminded that our moments are fleeting and flawed. Everything is happening all at once. There is no perfect moment. There really is only the present one. Savor it whatever the flavor because it’s all part of a complicated blend of bitter and sweet. RIP to all the moments passed. RIP to all the players passed. Life is fast and furious. Keep up. It’s not all roses, but it’s not all thorns. Pay attention to both. All the details matter. That’s the Post-It takeaway.
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