Everyone Has a Plan Until…
Everyone Has a Plan Until…
Present Sense № 20
Welcome to Present Sense – a weekend curation for Paid Subscribers – with 7 sensory recommendations: something to SEE, HEAR, SMELL, TASTE, TOUCH, BALANCE and ENVISION. Each edition also includes an audio guided meditation.
“Stick to the plan!” the speaker shouted from the podium, her parting words to the crowd of young graduates.
I turned to my sister’s friend: “That’s definitely not the advice I would have given them. As Mike Tyson famously said: ‘Everyone has a plan until…”
“... they get punched in the face,” she completed.
And life is guaranteed to give some punches. If I had any wisdom to offer my graduating niece, it would be: “Adapt, be flexible, and learn to get up when you fall down.”
I continue to learn that lesson myself. I love making plans: whether it’s writing out my daily to-do list, or planning my weekly meals, or scheduling trips in advance. I’ve been told I’m really good at it and as a result others have relied on me to plan things for them (work campaigns, family vacations, and friend gatherings).
Despite my best efforts, not all can be planned. And this past week was a perfect, though often unpleasant, reminder of that. After flying to DC to celebrate my niece, I came up to New York for a few days to enjoy my friends and my native city.
The weather was predicted to be warm and sunny so I proudly managed to pack a light carry-on bag. May is my favorite month in NYC – the rare time in-between frigid cold and humid hot. I was ready to reenact my memories of strolling the blooming streets, staying up late sipping wine on terraces, and flaunting my freshly-waxed legs in rarely worn skirts.
But when I arrived, it was 50 degrees and raining. All I had packed were summer dresses, a linen jacket and two pairs of sandals. My friend kindly lent me a coat, so on the first day I walked around the lower east side in my rubber birkenstocks and a long beige winter coat. Quite the fashion look – on par with some of the neighboring homeless men lying on the park benches.
Beyond the non-cooperative weather, a few bugs were going around. Not the cockroach kind who live rent-free in high-rises and basements apartments – but the invisible bugs who have airborne parties and dance freely on the subway poles. Colds, flus, stomach viruses… everyone caught something, including myself.
Dinners had to be canceled, friend’s art openings couldn’t be attended, and instead of fancy cocktails, I sipped on hot lemon water and ginger. It was hard to resist the anxious stir driven by the fear of missing out “I’m in NY, I should….”
I could have pushed through, as I used to when I lived here. But I decided to listen to my body’s signals, and to rest in the city that never sleeps. Instead of back-to-back meetings and squeezing every meal with a variety of friends, I limited myself to an activity or person a day.
There were perks to this under-the-weather approach. The time I spent with each friend was never rushed. My wallet didn’t get deflated by all the dining-out. And my sense of tranquility was nurtured by slow quiet mornings. It almost made me wonder whether I could have stayed in NY if I had chosen to live this way… and then I remember that the frantic rhythm is rarely chosen and more often obliged.
Once I let go of my cherished plans and embraced the gray, germ-filled, rainy reality of the week, a few unexpected delights were delivered. If I tried hard enough, I could weave the silver-linings into a shiny web of gifts.
Those unexpected sparks came in many forms: a home-made dinner the night I arrived at my friend Adi’s place; a lovely conversation with a stranger at a cafe; the sweet welcome note and artisanal chocolate that awaited me at my friend Kristine’s apartment.
My plans included some of my favorite NYC spots, but they couldn’t have accounted for the new discoveries, such as the quaint Japanese cafe where I had lunch with fellow newsletter writer
. Or the beautiful ink and stationery store (a guilty-pleasure of mine) I stumbled upon on a stroll.It reminded me how the most beautiful experiences in my life have rarely been part of my plan. When I moved to LA a decade ago, I hadn’t planned on falling in love with my partner. I hadn’t planned on working on some of the incredible projects I got to be a part of. I hadn’t planned on meeting the people who have such a deep, beautiful and surprising impact in my life. In many ways, my plans hadn’t been as boldly beautiful as life’s plans.
Sometimes, life punches you in the face, knocking you down wet in the rain – only to look up and catch a rainbow.
This week’s sensory recommendations include a mix of what I did in NY this week, as well as what I had planned to do – blending a bit of wishful thinking with reality. If you’d like more New York recommendations, check out my NYC Travel Guide.
In Joy,
Sabrina
PS: There will be no Full Moon edition next week as I’ll be preparing a special event I’m curating (inspired by my newsletter!): TASTING COLOR, a Seven Senses Feast. If you’re in LA and would like to join, you can read more about it and reserve one of the last seats.
SEE
In My Mind, Out My Mind | painting exhibition by Shyama Golden
On View May 16 – June 22, 2024 at Harper Gallery, New York
I was disappointed to miss Shyama Golden’s opening at Harper Gallery. I first discovered Shyama’s work at ‘Wonder Woman’, a group exhibition of Asian American and diasporic female artists at Jeffrey Deitch’s LA gallery in 2022. Her paintings really stood out, dreamy and profound, and I had snapped lots of photos of them.
I was delighted to meet her a couple months ago, at a joint birthday party at her house. She was working on her new series of paintings for her NYC show so I got a little glimpse of the surreal world she was creating for her Harper Gallery solo show.
If you’re in NYC within the next month, I highly recommend visiting the exhibition in Chelsea.
HEAR
Deep in It | track by Berlioz & Ted Jasper
Listen on Spotify, Youtube, AppleMusic
This jazzy house music track felt like the perfect mood to my silver-lined rainy week in New York. I didn’t know much about the artist Berlioz whose Spotify bio reads “If Matisse made house music,” and whose newest EP is titled ‘Jazz is for ordinary people’. The album is wonderful and I particularly love this track, a collaboration with Ted Jasper who describes himself as "making soundtracks for hopeless romantics."
