On Patience, Jan 2021
Anyone who claims to be a leader must speak like a leader. That means speaking with integrity and truth.
-Kamala Harris
Photo: Mahina Choy-Ellis
It is a new year. So many of us looked to this one with anticipation, hope, and maybe, as we so regularly identified with in 2020, cautious optimism. I debated what to write these last couple of weeks since we crossed the threshold into 2021. Each new day brought with it a new set of concerns, anxieties, even some dread. And yet, we are here. Right now. Living and breathing. And that is good.
Last week I found myself in midtown for an appointment. It happened to be the day my estimated taxes were due and I needed to get to the post office. After locating one a couple blocks away and realizing I had a few minutes before they were to close, I hustled through the empty streets of the theater district. I walked inside and was struck by the scene as the entirety of the post office was barricaded with plexiglass and yellow caution tape. I found a spot in the far corner, socially distanced from all others, to write out my checks. I took out my hand sanitizer and sprayed down the pen and counter noting that more and more people were cueing up.
When I finished with the checks I looked at the line of people waiting and thought to myself I could just walk out now and mail them tomorrow. They might be postmarked a few days late because of the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday, but it probably wouldn't matter. Then I told myself to just get in the line. I remembered something I'd read about the concept of waiting. I faintly recalled a lesson about not labeling it as waiting, but reframing the time as just being, with intention. It sounds so simple, even trivial, but as I took my designated spot on the footprint sticker I made the decision to just be, without adding impatience to the experience. Surprisingly, the line actually moved quickly. They even opened up a second window.
Minutes later, when I approached the counter, the postal worker greeted me, "Dear, what can I do for you today?" She complimented my face mask and told me how excited she was to be getting off soon and starting her long weekend, mentioning that she had showed up for work every day during the pandemic. She shared with me the new stamp coming out for Black History Month--the legendary playwright August Wilson--and told me she'd make sure my envelopes were post-marked right then before she left for the day. She and her colleague at the next window were sharing laughs and then were joined by the station police officer, clearly their friend, and who came bearing gifts in the form of what I can only imagine were donuts (small paper bag with a DD logo sort of gave it away.)
I left the post office feeling a deep appreciation for this woman, not only for her kindness to me, but also as an essential worker--someone who showed up every day and worked through the intensity of this last year and managed to still greet her customers with care. Later I jokingly told some friends that this was the most fun I had had in a long time. In truth, perhaps it was just the most unexpectedly heart-warming of experiences I had had in quite some time.
Lastly, I want to quietly acknowledge that my studio is celebrating its 10-Year Anniversary this month. It was in January of 2011 that I started Progressive Pilates Williamsburg in the basement level of our current building. Somewhat on a whim I said yes to an offer of renting out a small room inside an office with a massage therapist. I found a used Pilates Cadillac and Chair at an estate sale on Long Island, asked my neighbor I had just met if she'd shoot some photos of me for a website I would teach myself to build, and proceeded to start a business from scratch. I guess you could say I was both afraid and hopeful, eager and patient, cautiously optimistic.