Biscuits N' Gravy

It'a been officially one year since I moved from Brooklyn, New York back to Ringgold, Georgia... Here is what I've learned

When I was in first grade, my mom finally took me on her annual trip to New York that she would facilitate for her middle school chorus class. I had never been past Tennessee, so this was a very exciting time for me. I remember stopping at a McDonald’s in Virginia on the 13 hour drive, early in the morning, and telling the lady behind the counter that I’d like to order biscuits and gravy. “Honey, they don’t do that here,” my mom replied with a laugh. I couldn’t understand why— biscuits and gravy is the best breakfast meal.

Throughout the years, my mom would let me go on these trips with her, and each year I would find something strange and different from what I knew down south. Jay walking was encouraged, striking up conversations with strangers was frowned upon, self expression was self defense, you can be whoever you want. Each passing year, I’d grow fonder of New York, declaring that I would eventually live in the big city, and then go back to my small town of Ringgold, Georgia feeling out of place than ever before.

Flash forward some odd years, and I’m moving into student housing in Brooklyn Heights, right across from the Promenade overlooking a perfect Manhattan skyline. I was standing in the vision I had created for myself. That semester in student housing was interesting— I was healing from a fresh breakup, while trying to soak up as much of the city’s wonder as I could. There were days I felt so wonderfully small, I would pair the most chaotic pieces of clothing together with bold colorful makeup, just to sit in the park. No one would care, it was bliss. There were other days I felt so hopelessly small, I would only get up for the essentials— bathroom, food, and the occasional walk to the lobby to pick up my mail. No one would care, it was paralyzing. I spent a lot of times sitting on the Promenade, staring at the magnificence of Manhattan across the water, and write for hours. I was processing a lot at the time, and learning a lot about myself in the process— it was inspiring and really, really tough.

When it came to the end of the semester, the few of us who were graduating had the choice to move back to Nashville or stay in Brooklyn. I felt like my time in New York wasn’t up yet; There were things the city wasn’t done teaching me. So I sold my car, put down a security deposit and first month’s rent on an apartment in Bushwick with two other friends, and officially became a resident of Brooklyn, NY. It wasn’t glamorous by any stretch of the means. We had rats living in our walls the first month and had an exterminator come, only to then have dead rats in our walls, the smell of rotting rat carcuses, and dozens of flies in the house at any given time. All the while, I was working long hours, playing open mics to empty bars, and coming home with very little energy left to give to my writing. It was easy for me to crave the slow pace, green pastures of Ringgold, Georgia among the hot, crowded train stations. I would picture myself on long drives through winding roads with the windows rolled down, blasting whatever album I was obsessed with at the time.

Through the hardships, I did learn a lot about myself that ended up being undoubtedly valuable to me. In the loneliness of the city, I learned how to care for myself carefully and intentionally. I would go to Clark’s Diner in Brooklyn Heights and order a Bloody Mary (extra spicy), or sit in the European paintings section of the Met and read my book, or people watch in Washington Square Park, or smoke a j and walk around my neighborhood. I had a lot of self discovery during this time. I felt existential and would have an identity crises at least once a week. It was incredibly difficult— I would often be up late at night ruminating and spiraling, and making myself sick from obsession. It was also incredibly freeing— I was able to be whoever I wanted, without needing the approval of anyone else. I was simply coping with the reality that {I} got to decide who I was going to be.; it was always MY choice.

Here are some pieces of work/quotes that I carried with me during my time living in NY:

There is a community of the spirit.
Join it, and feel the delight
of walking in the noisy street
and being the noise.

Drink all your passion,
and be a disgrace.

Close both eyes
to see with the other eye.

Open your hands,
if you want to be held.

Sit down in the circle.

Quit acting like a wolf, and feel
the shepard’s love filling you.

At night, your beloved wanders.

Don’t accept consolations.
Close your mouth against food.

Taste the lover’s mouth in yours.
You moan, “She left me.” “He left me.”
Twenty more will come.

Be empty of worrying.
Think of who created thought!

Why do you stay in prison
when the door is so wide open?

Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking.
Live in silence.

Flow down and down in always
widening rings of being.

— rumi: community of the spirit

“Whatever you do in life will be insignificant but it is very important that you do it.”

— ghandi

“These are the days that must happen to you” 

— walt whitman 

“I wake up every morning & say to myself, ‘well, I’m still in New York. Thank you, God.’”

— edward i. koch

“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart.

                I am, I am, I am.”

— sylvia plath, the bell jar

Since moving back home, I’ve learned how to keep a balance. I got to be so expressive and creative in New York, and coming back south, there is a pressure to tone things down. It’s another kind of self discover, one where instead of becoming my most self, I have been learning, rather, to be a moderate version of myself— A version of myself that’s easier to for people to ingest. I’ve been learning how to not compromise myself, my values, and ultimately who I fundamentally became in New York, all while staying respectful to those with very differing lives than me. Going from living in NewYork to Georgia (in an election year, no doubt) is enough to give anyone whiplash, to put it lightly. But I’ve loved being with family, having conversations with my parents in person, seeing my nephews get bigger and smarter, playing board games with my siblings. I’ve found a group of girls that truly has been a healing experience of sisterhood. I’ve gotten to eat a lot of biscuits and gravy.

I’ve been blessed beyond all doubts.

I don’t know where this next year will take me. I hope I’ll get to see Brooklyn again soon, I hear her calling me.

xx Kimi