I spotted this beautiful Billy Collins poem on the subway yesterday, likely part of the commemoration of Grand Central Station’s 100th anniversary.
Commuting on the train every day has its ups and downs. I vastly prefer it to spending a similar amount of time in a car, but it’s still a long haul from door to door.
One of my daily joys, though, is getting to come through Grand Central Station. It is a New York City landmark breathtaking in its scope and beauty and yet bustling every day as one of the world’s biggest transit hubs. The $196 million restoration from 1991 to 1998 restored Grand Central to its former glory, removing 80 years of accumulated grime and restoring Grand Central to its former glory. The station has more than 100 secrets, a whispering galley, and a secret platform build for FDR with an entrance directly to the Waldorf Astoria hotel.
But mostly just love that I get to go through there every day, I love the morning moments when I remember to look up and see the light passing through the East Side windows just so, I love the bustle on a Friday afternoon when you can barely walk two feet because of the bustle and energy as people line up to get away for the weekend. It reminds me of what great urban spaces can be.
Music and humor on the way to work – talk about a different kind of commute.
People in Grand Central Station dressed in swimsuits, shorts, and work clothes, guerrilla marketing for www.bahamafridays.com. The Ebony Hillbillies playing bluegrass outside the Shuttle train. And a woman named Julie (I think) playing guitar on the Shuttle train and singing in an angelic voice. I’m sure she’s better than most paid acts in any other city around the world.
Peak commuting hours have the most people, but they’re so focused on getting to work that you aren’t going to get their attention.
Nothing surprises a New York commuter
Stopping for five minutes to see something beautiful, humorous, and memorable helps us all get through the day
Yesterday I finally got to see “Man on Wire,” the wonderful, superlative-defying documentary about Philippe Petit, who illegally strung a wire between the two World Trade Center towers in 1974 and then walked across the 450 foot span between the towers, 1,350 feet above the ground.
I was left with two specific reflections from the film. The first was that when Philippe came down – handcuffed – from his 45 minutes on a wire more than 100 stories high, he was repeatedly asked “Why did you do it?”
His response was, approximately, “I just created something singular, something of beauty, something that has never been seen and never will be seen again, and all people can think to ask is why I did it!” It’s a helpful reminder that we do not always need a ‘why’ for everything, that beauty and inspiration themselves are enough of an answer sometimes.
My second reflection was about people and roles that are needed to create something truly spectacular. Philippe plays the part of the entrepreneur whose vision and passion are so captivating and inspiring that people are pulled to him and offer up their support – because they want to be part of something great. These other people don’t need to be – and probably shouldn’t be – entrepreneurs.
Philippe’s counterpart is his friend Jean-Louis Blandeau, whose job is to be the naysayer, the guy who pressure-tests the plans, the person who butts heads with Philippe but who ultimately has Philippe’s complete trust and respect. Jean-Louis is part of a crew of 8 people who play a part in this triumph, and it served to remind me that to do something great, you generally don’t want a gaggle of entrepreneurs (or, for that matter, any group of people with the same characteristics).
There are different roles that need to be filled and part of each of our individual challenges and opportunities is to be self-aware enough to know what role we are most suited to play, and then to become as good as possible at playing that role — while still leaving plenty of space to stretch ourselves from time to time.