They're hard, and they're exhausting. This week has been filled with goodbye lunches, goodbye dinners, goodbye drinks with different sets of friends. It always feels more final than he probably is. And it's gut wrenching! Last night was the toughest so far, saying goodbye to the Punk Ropers.
It's funny how you can usually trace the good things in your life back to a source of something you thought could never be positive. I'd signed up at the YMCA about three years ago as a way to deal with an event that had me sad and angry. I thought working out might get me the balance I needed.
I never expected that just signing up at the local Y could lead to meeting a friend that introduced me to an amazing group of people. I always looked forward to Wednesdays playful, childlike jump roping classes. At my first happy hour with them, which I went to alone, I was approached by so many friendly people that really wanted nothing more than to get to know me. That's one of the things that amazed me about this group. Everyone is so genuinely welcoming. And after that, they're incredibly supportive. They notice your improvements. They cheer you on. And they mean it!
Looking around the room every Wednesday I was proud to call so many types of people my friends. The artists, the musicians, the photographers, the DJ, the bartender, the film guy, the food stylist, the ceramicist. They worked together outside of class. They inspired each other. It inspired me. Because I don't have any of these artistic talents!
Last night, as they all gathered to send us off in the back garden of a sweet restaurant in north Greenpoint, it seemed unreal that I won't see them for classes, for happy hours, at parties, around town.
My hope is to teach Punk Rope out west and create a similar group of real, genuine, talented people that care for each other and the community. It sounds sappy, but I hope I can recreate the spirit somewhere new. Maybe that will be my talent.