Hello my friends! If you’re new here, welcome! I use real examples from my life to demonstrate the spiritual principles that guide me. Today I’m talking about an excursion to The Big Apple, but it really isn’t about New York. It’s about the alignment underneath that allows something that seems incongruous and potentially difficult to unfold in the most magical way possible.
Even if you have zero interest in heading to Manhattan and even if traveling is easy for you, I hope there will be something of interest here because these principles are universal. The story about my life is just the vehicle for sharing them so you can find your own way.
I’m designing a mini-adventure in NYC and am chuckling at what a bizarro style of trip planning I have.
What I see many people doing is choosing a location, booking travel to maximize the time there, filling every day with pre-arranged activities, coming home exhausted and overwhelmed to a sink full of dirty dishes and an empty frig, only to dive back into work six hours later.
UGH.
Not for me.
If you a Sagitarian, that could work. But for Cancerian with a Taurus moon, it’s a recipe for disaster.
I’m all about creature comforts, taking it slow, enjoying pleasurable endeavors, and consistent daily routines. I like being at home, alone. I used to think I just shouldn’t travel, but lately I’ve been experimenting with how I travel.
This article is the result of that evolution.
A few weeks ago, a family friend offered me a place to stay in Manhattan. While you might be thinking that NYC is not a good match for me, you’re partially correct. However… I went to NYU, so the city represents a state of freedom, self-discovery, and belonging that remains unchallenged to this day, 30+ years later. It’s where I found yoga, mind-opening bookstores, and realized it’s not compulsory to shave your legs. 😳 It’s also the place of my first awareness of “coincidence” being more than just random events as the dorm lottery managed to place lifelong friends in close proximity. 🤔
A visit was not at all on the radar until I got this call. I’ll call it Breadcrumb #1. Having use of an apartment allows me to maintain some vestiges of my routine, a greater degree of comfort, and most importantly, some personal space, without shelling out a fortune. The plan is for the occupants to be elsewhere so I’m not sharing a small area with two beloved, yet cantankerous, elders.
Holding this invitation lightly, I looked at my calendar and discovered a rare, upcoming Saturday without any appointments and a stretch of 5 days that would minimally interrupt my work. I want to go sooner rather than later so I’m not dealing with hot, humid, icky weather, and I wasn’t sure I could crack the timing, but it came together effortlessly. Breadcrumb #2.
I pulled up the Amtrak schedule and found cheap transportation during off peak hours (Very important! My nerves cannot handle rush hour. Or driving, even though my car is awesome.) Breadcrumb #3.
A dear friend who used to live across the hallway now lives upstate is available during one of those days for a mini-mini-adventure up the Hudson River and my former roommate is free for lunch on one of the other days. #4.
The structure fell easily into place without compromising any of my needs to go at my own pace and not overly expose myself to chaos. So I booked it.
As I’ve been telling people about my trip, they generally ask, “What are you doing there?” That’s fair. Most people go to the city to catch a show, concert, game, exhibit, something.
But I’m just following the breadcrumbs. I have no idea how it will go. I can’t walk or stand too long without discomfort, so I’ll be working within those parameters which will rule out many possibilities. That’s fine- those activities simply aren’t for me right now.
The answer I’ve settled on, when asked about my plans? I’m puttering.
I’ll seek out good food that I don’t have easy access to here. I’ll go to the East Village and wander around, annoyed that the funk is gone and the neighborhood homogenized, but still steeped in nostalgia. I’ll look for a few stores that stand out in my memory. I’ll catch sunrises and sunsets and random parks on my route.
Does that sound nuts? If this were a once-in-a-lifetime trip, maybe. It’s only a 90 minute journey though, and I’ve only spent $46 on train tickets, so I don’t have much at stake here. If I were going to Iceland, I’d probably have a different approach.
Following breadcrumbs might seem easy. In the beginning, however, it is not. The ego-mind likes to run interference, highjacking guidance in favor of logic. It’s become easy for me, though, after tons of practice. Now it’s easy for me the same way the balance beam is easy for a gymnast who has practiced every day for years. It might not feel easy for you today, but you can get there with consistent effort.
I took my strategy on a test run last week in Philly. I don’t often go downtown these days, but when I do, I like to leave some time to wander about. To notice what catches my eye and where I feel inexplicably drawn.
On this particular day, a breadcrumb appeared in my mind. “Stay in the shade.” Funny cuz I had been thinking, what a lovely day, I should get some sun. That was a thought based on “shoulds”. But the breadcrumb came from higher up the ladder, and as I actually prefer the shade and detest getting hot, it was a no-brainer to comply.
It was Philly: The Shady Tour. lol
I walked in the general direction I wanted to go, and each time I had a choice, I took the shady option. I had the most lovely couple of hours puttering about and even though I had miscalculated the train’s departure time to go home, I somehow managed to walk onto the platform just as it arrived. That’s pretty awesome, especially given my history of showing up two minutes after it’s left and needing to wait an hour or more for the next one.
While I haven’t committed to staying in the shade in NYC, I’m open to whatever parameters I’m herded into while there. Between the few get-togethers scheduled and the budget, I imagine it will all fall into place in beautiful ways better than I can logically plan.
I’m looking at six total train rides and two different sleeping locations. I’m already sending Reiki ahead to clear the way and set the stage for a smooth, easy, comfortable journey. I’m open to the next wave of breadcrumbs to guide me and focusing my intention on having a good time.
The trick for me is not getting overstimulated. Given that I’m going into the belly of the beast of stimulation, I’ll need to take extra care and pay attention. It helps that I’ve allowed for so much flexibility. And can easily avoid Times Square. (blech)
Here’s the recipe distilled down to a few key steps.
Know what you want. Listen to your heart and your body and give them at least as much weight as your thoughts when making a plan.
Notice the “shoulds” that creep in based on previous conditioning and the advertising industry’s immense investment to suggest that you need a bunch of needless junk to survive and Hollywood’s depiction of glamorous travel.
Know what you need. What are your non-negotiables, your deal-breakers, your would-like-to-have-if-possible elements?
Know your budget and plan on unexpected expenses. Know the difference between a splurge and a potential financial fiasco.
Be willing to pivot when you face a dead end. If the way doesn’t got through, it isn’t your way.
Notice the breadcrumbs. These are invitations to explore a certain options. They are often unexpected, inexplicable, mysterious. Be brave!
Envision it going the way you’d like, while leaving a door open for something even better to come through.
Sprinkle the planning and the plan liberally with Reiki to help get yourself in the flow.
In short, align your intention, desire, and will and activate willingness to be guided. My current theory is that this is a recipe for a life well lived. If it seems out of reach, know that for the gymnast, the balance beam likely once seemed difficult to stand on and now she’s up there doing back flips and sticking the landing.
You can learn to do new things, even seemingly impossible things if you’re willing to get messy, make mistakes, be uncomfortable, and rock the boat.
And this boat could really use some rocking, so I’d encourage you to get started today.
What unusual choices have you made based on the longing in your heart or the breadcrumbs that appeared on your path? How did you notice? What would you do differently next time? Are you ready to give it a try if you haven’t already? I’m eager to have some company on the breadcrumbs tour!
Catch you next week with an update.
This is a reader supported (vs. advertisement supported) publication. If you liked this article, consider subscribing. You can also show support by liking, commenting, sharing, or hitting the “Buy Me a Coffee” button to make a small donation. Every engagement helps to keep the creative wheels turning.