It’s been a while since I’ve lived in an apartment.
8 years to be exact. No, I take that back. I’ve lived in a few apartments and duplexes since then but have always enjoyed the top floor making an effort to have no one above me. My two experiences of having someone above consisted of two lovely but very LOUD lesbians in college, then a family of five living in 800sf with a very obnoxious sound system to play their Xbox. Needless to say if it said top floor, I was in.
This time around, I completely forgot this concept. I was so gunho about this apartment (& still really am minus this) because of the warm vibe it had the second I walked in. A fabulous former hoop dancer as a roommate (win!), two adorable kitties (double win!), and a rooftop to watch the sunset when it’s not 10 degrees outside (holy moly that’s beyond winning!). The guy upstairs though. He’s teaching me a lesson in patience. I’m aware he’s a man from the singing-in-the-shower-like morning serenading I receive around the time I’m about to sit comfortably to meditate. Also, his footsteps. Or stomps we can call them. He likes to wear shoes, all day errday. & I don’t think he sleeps. Early morning he’s up and about along with late at night. Oh and he has a fabulous rolling chair that squeaks when he leans back, like my Dad’s did in his law office and home office when I was a kid. Oh, memories. I love you, Dad. My attempt at Pratipaksha bhavana, Yoga Sutra 2.33 & 2.34. Look it up, friends.
They didn’t lie when they say this city doesn’t sleep. The sounds are very different from the chatter of Charleston and the soft crashing waves of Folly Beach or Sullivan’s. Though, practicing yoga in Union Square with the horns, breaks, car engines, and the vibration of this city is actually very soothing for me. Much more than the man in 4L. But it’s a constant reminder that we are the center and there is this rotation of life happening all around us at all times. Close your eyes in this moment and listen to it. Picture the movement surrounding you. It’s all for a reason. You are a part of it, a very special piece to the puzzle. And so is the man in 4L, though it wouldn’t hurt if he just took off his shoes.