Yesterday at the airport I was a barrel full of emotions. Happy to return home and at the same time sad to leave my other home behind again.
It was a week full of nostalgia and discoveries. NYC is a city that is constantly reinventing itself and does not shy away from change. Drawing the line to life is therefore obvious. Changes, you know.
Of course I returned to my old neighborhood. Honestly, it was a bit to swallow at times. It is no longer there as before, the impact of 2 years of pandemic was painfully noticeable. Many shops and restaurants have gone bankrupt. The neighborhood traditionally owed its wealth to its wealthy residents. During the pandemic, however, they have flocked to their country houses and have not (yet) returned.
In the – almost empty – local dinner I got talking to John. He told how difficult the past 2 years have been. About how he is saving the dinner, founded exactly 50 years ago by his father, from destruction. And how thanks to his willpower, the family business is still open.
And yet. It’s been tough. “I feel so trapped, I need to keep this business alive for my family, but it’s so exhausting that there’s no room for anything else. I wished I could be set free”.
And yet. He also talked a lot about the beautiful moments. About how much he loves talking to his customers. About how they are like friends to him, each with their own backpack, who occasionally need a pat on the back or a listening ear.
At the checkout, he told about a student who was planning to eat her last meal there, only to take her own life afterwards. With eyes full of tears and happiness, he told how he had managed to convince her otherwise, “and that’s why this job is so amazing. I get to talk to people, help them, make a difference. It’s something special, you know”?
I do know, John. He beamed with happiness, to which I said: “John, if I may, at the beginning of our talk, you told me how much you feel trapped here and wished there was a way out. What if that’s not what you really want? What if saving and running this diner is what truly makes you happy? What if you’re not trapped at all”?
Full of amazement, new insight and with a telltale grin, he said: “You know what? I do, I do love what I’m doing. This is what truly makes me happy, even if it can really suck at times”. o which I said: “It can’t be rainbows and butterflies all the time. But if you love what you do, you’re already halfway there. Isn’t that something”?
This was a conversation to remember. We can all be like John, each in our own way. As long as we do with full conviction what we do and check in with ourselves on time. Because change is also part of life. Reinventing yourself, and then throwing yourself back in full force with renewed courage. And who knows how much beauty will come ✨ your way
