#63: From a Bird's Eye

My boyfriend Chad and I spent last weekend at my sister’s apartment in downtown Brooklyn. The living room was super cozy and the bedroom walls held unique artwork from foreign places. The views were incredibly beautiful on the balcony of the 22nd floor. Despite all of that though, the most striking thing was the consciousness this elevation provided. 

Chad and I could see the Statue of Liberty, the staggering buildings, the Manhattan Bridge, the Empire State Building... all those quintessential structures. How brilliant is mankind... 

And then we looked down towards the streets beneath us at the human beings under our toes, weaving themselves throughout all these man-made wonders. 

To our left was a homeless man sitting in towels, holding his cardboard sign. The passer byers continued down the street, moving on, peering down at their devices. 

To our right we noticed a thin guy wandering down the street, waving his hands above him and throwing his head back every few steps to scream into thin air. He may have been hallucinating. 

Chad says, “He might have schizophrenia.” And people walk by him, moving away from his possible path. 

Chad continues, "Who does he have to help or take care of him? Possibly no one.” With squinted eyes and a tighter grip on the railing, we looked down at our own feet and stood in the discomfort of our silence as deeper realizations emerged beneath us. 

The silence soon broke by an arguing couple just across the street. The woman, probably in her thirties, was screaming at the man, her voice cracking and her hands flailing back and forth. Feeling slightly in the wrong doing so, we continued to watch and observe and listen, easily able to distinguish every word and every sharp curse. 

Five minutes later, after more ceaseless yelling, a wave of relief came over me as the woman grabbed her bags and began to walk the other way. But as soon as she did, she turned back around and proceeded shrieking and swearing, now forcefully pushing him. It was difficult and confusing to watch.

Then I looked back over to the homeless person, now lying down flat on the hot sidewalk. 

Still alone. 

So my eyes moved back to the man with schizophrenia, who had made his way further down the block. 

And then I was back to the couple. The woman started aggressively throwing her bags at the man’s chest. He stood there without retaliation or any sort of motion, looking down at the city street. Next to all the outcry, I noticed another man. He had just parked his car and had gotten out to read the meter which was directly next to the couple. He read it, paid it, and walked away, strolling passed the brawling couple with a simple glance. 

Twenty five minutes later, the fight seemed to have concluded as we watched the couple, rather surprisingly, walk side by side down the street... and they disappeared out of sight. 

Chad and I looked at each other, making eye contact for probably the first time in a half hour. We broke out in a little laughter. “Did they just.. make up? Are they alright now?” 

As Chad then put his arm around me, I jumped back into my own world. And I thought about how much there is going on at every single moment, and how rarely I really get to see and acknowledge that. But being on that balcony gave me a new perspective on how to view life, because when I'm down on those streets, I mainly only see from my view. But up there, I was able to notice and feel much more, opening my eyes and heightening my sensitivity to many different people, different lives, different stories, and people going through their own challenges.  

I think sometimes it's really valuable to take a step back, or in this case, up, to see things from a bird's-eye view. 

Amanda's first-person bio:

I am currently in my third year at the University of Florida. I am studying Education and Sustainability Studies as I have a deep passion for both teaching children and for caring for the environment. I seek work, people, and environments that align with my core values of empathy, compassion, and conscientiousness. My biggest joy is when I can be of sincere help to someone or something that needs me. Whether that means putting in great efforts to go green, supporting the earth and its resources, or opening my ears to listen and arms to hug someone who needs support, I always find my motivation when I see betterment due in part by my actions.