Casey…..Casey, Casey, Casey. Where to start? Where to end? This blog post (though a little longer than any I wrote – because she is a much better writer than myself) defines what November Project is supposed to be (in my eyes). Casey, current PA carrier, exudes positivity and spirit like few I have met. Things are always better when she is around, and we are lucky to have her #justshowup at least once a week, usually more. Without further delay, I give you her #guestblog:
There’s a song I can’t listen to without crying anymore. It’s called Better Place, and it’s by Rachel Platten. And it’s terrible but also great and you should all listen to it.
It’s cheesy AF, but the reason I cry every time is because the first time I ever heard that song and listened to the lyrics, I immediately thought of November Project. If you change just two words in the song (to hugs and high fives, duh), it morphs from a love song to a song that’s about every single person that comes to NP.
“I’ll tell the world, I’ll sing a song,
It’s a better place since you came along,
Since you came along.
Your hugs are sunlight through the trees,
Your high fives are the ocean breeze,
Everything’s alright when you’re with me.
And ah ah ah you’re my favorite thing,
Ah ah ah, all the love that you bring.
Well it feels like I’ve opened my eyes again,
And the colors are golden and bright again.
There’s a song in my heart, I feel like I belong,
It’s a better place since you came along.”
New York City is a hard place to live. HARD. It’s hard to date here. It’s hard to find an apartment here. It’s hard to work here. It’s hard to find your people here. It’s wicked easy to find people. They’re fucking everywhere, god get away from me all of you PEOPLE. But it’s hard to find the people who are yours, who make your soul sing, who make you the you that you were supposed to be all along.
And it’s hard to be positive here. To quote an article our tribe circulated on Facebook, “To live in New York City is to spend your entire life in fight-or-flight mode.” It’s a vibrant, brilliant city, filled with some of the best and brightest and coolest humans there are. It’s one of the most exciting places on this planet. It can be intoxicatingly amazing, and take your breath away when you see the skyline. But it’s also filled with problems. There’s a sharpness and a bitterness that can catch you off guard. (And there’s also a smell that permeates the streets in the summer that’s a mixture of garbage and urine… that’ll catch you off guard too.)
It can, if you’re here long enough, it convince you that you’re hard too.
I’ve lived in New York City for nine years. Longer than anywhere else in my life. And for most of those years, I was convinced I was a negative person. A pessimist. I would look at myself in the mirror, and try and wrap my brain around the fact that this was who I was. I was just an unhappy, snarky person, and New York made me that way. It was to be my lot in life, a trade-off to live in the best city ever. The cost of business for the most delicious bagels and pizza known to mankind.
But then a few years ago, I had a relationship end. I was upset. I thought it was meant to be. (It wasn’t.) I thought he was my human. (He wasn’t.) And one of the reasons I started to realize this was because of the feedback I got from everyone else in my life; it was resounding.
“You seem so much happier now.”
I hadn’t realized I was unhappy. I hadn’t known I was settling, accepting this negative person as my partner and in my life, because I misguidedly thought that’s how I was too. But here I was, post-breakup, and happier. I was starting to thrive in a moment where you’re supposed to feel the most broken. It messed with my brain.
Not long after that, I just showed up for the first time. It was, without my knowledge, #weekofleak. My first NP was under the highway on the lower east side, doing a traditional card deck workout on some pretty gross pavement. #PaulLeak was flying solo, made me scream my name once, and gave me a hug. We did a shit ton of push ups and sit ups. I didn’t talk to anyone. I was sore for three days. And I was hooked.
Making friends at 6:30 in the morning isn’t easy. It took me months to open up, to find friends, to start to actively participate in workouts, to cheer, to scream my face off, to smile, to dress like an idiot. But once I did, I became the version of me that’s been there all along. The one my family knows, and friends I grew up with know. The one who hadn’t shown her face in New York City yet. The one who’s eager to hug, and loses volume control when excited or when playing rock paper scissors. Who doesn’t just like to run, but loves it. Who would rather smile than scowl, and support than break down. The one who tries to see the bright side of absolutely everything. The one who would always rather play tag or dance than workout, but who also sets lofty goals and then goes out and crushes them. The one who said she’d never run a marathon (and still hasn’t), but who’s running her first 50k in Wisconsin this weekend……….
And so, here I am almost two years after that first workout, crying to a cheesy song, asking which came first: the positivity or the tribe? Was the better, brighter, faster, more neon-y version of Casey that NP drew out always there, or did they help create her? And if she was always there, would I have found her again on my own?
“I see the whole world in your eyes,
It’s like I’ve known you all my life,
We just feel so right.
So I pour my heart into your hands,
It’s like you really understand,
You love the way I am.
And ah ah ah ah you’re my favorite thing,
Ah ah ah ah, all the happiness you bring.
Well it feels like I’ve opened my eyes again,
And the colors are golden and bright again,
And the sun paints the skies and the wind sings our song,
It’s a better place since you came along.”
And that, my friends and tribespeople and internet strangers, is why you should #justshowup. Not because it’s fitness (it is), or fun (it is), or free (#always), but because you don’t know what version of you is waiting to be discovered. Or what you might accomplish with these tribes behind you. And most importantly, you have no idea what you might bring out in someone else.
Maybe you’ll show up, and you won’t get faster or have fun, and you’ll just never get better… #doubtful. But maybe you showing up is the difference to someone else. Maybe your story is the one they finally identify with. Maybe you reaching out for that awkward hug is the reason they come back, the reason they push themselves, the reason they start to believe that maybe they aren’t broken. Maybe that hug, that smile, that high five, that FUCK YEAH, helps them realize that the best version of them isn’t gone forever, it’s just been hibernating. Or is still to be discovered. And you could be one of the people that helps them get there. That helps draw them out of their shell. That helps make them better and louder and happier, and all of a sudden, a person standing in front of the tribe, holding an oar handle with a whole new perspective on who they are.
So if you can’t find a reason for yourself to make it to a workout, think about the tribe. About how they need you and they don’t even know it yet. About how you bring something to the table that no one else does, and that maybe your specific something is going to change somebody’s life. And if you’re really lucky, they’ll change yours right back.
“Now I’m alright.
Now I’m alright.
Everything’s alright.
‘Cause it feels like I’ve opened my eyes again,
And the colors are golden and bright again.
There’s a song in my heart, I feel like I belong,
It’s a better place since you came along.
It’s a better place since you came along.”
So which came first? The positivity or the tribe? I may never know, internet, because you can’t ask Google or Siri that kind of life-changing shit. But I do know this: November Project has made me better. And happier. And in love with New York City again. And it’s because of the people. I don’t know why I’m so lucky. I’ve found my tribe in this hard, brilliant city… but they’re also in DC and Boston and Minneapolis and Worcester and so many other places that I can’t wrap my head around it. And we say it every day, but it bears repeating: I am so fucking glad you all are here. And I’m SO FUCKING GRATEFUL I get to be here with you.
And even though her songs are cheesy and make me cry, I’m glad Rachel Platten is here too. She really says it best…
“There’s a song in my heart, I feel like I belong,
It’s a better place since you came along.”
Thank you for sharing and showing up Casey, we are SO glad you are here. I love reading blog posts like this, just assures me what we are doing here is good, SO good.
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