Treasure in the Park

Sorry I've been so quiet lately. The frenetic pace of the City when the sun comes out is almost viral. As we speak, I can barely hear myself think because of the noises competing to make their own symphony. Yet, there it is. Like an oasis in the City. Bryant Park.
It may seem rather plebeian of me to mention something so basic. The Park. Not THE park (as in the Central one) but the one between Grand Central and Port Authority. Next to the New York Public Library, across from Nat Sherman. That one. Did you know there were treasures hidden within?
As I was filming a pilot, reviewing scripts for ideas with my sketch comedy group, working on new material to perform for my stand-up act and looking for locations for a show I’m producing, I suggested to take a meeting in the Park. Off in the distance, I could see well dressed couples drinking clear glasses of Chablis. Laughter tinkling like the best polished crystal. The symphony of birds chirping like Texan lavender. As my footsteps neared the granite walkway, the crescendo of the orchestra reached new heights. There they were, the participants of an elegant opera, in grand New York City style.
As I made my way to a new found slice of serenity, I caught a glimpse of my old thinking like a hiccup, or a faint echo. It wasn’t such a long time ago when I would not have even known that every Thursday one can go to the concerto in the park. The sense of community and peace is like nothing I can describe, and tastes sweeter than any glass of anything I’ve ever put my lips to.

Labels: Bryant Park, Rumi, serenity, sobriety