I have been going out alone of late. New York has places where you can sit alone and feel entirely comfortable. Narrow dark places with candlelight, where the staff is laidback, friendly and infinitely patient. Where you can sit and savor your life without feeling in anyway strange or self-conscious. Where you are somehow insulated such that you don't have to give a shit what anyone says or thinks of you - so you don't.
There are few (perhaps no) vast open spaces here that make you feel like you are alone and at one with existence here. But there are small quiet places that somehow make space. That make you feel like you can hear your heart and take a breath, be still.
And of late, I have been thinking that I wish that I could bottle this sensation and take it with me to remind me that at one time in my life I was here. I was really here and it was, even, at times, delicious.
Which makes me think of a scene from the movie "Breakfast at Tiffany's" so described in an article by David Dunlap:
HOLLY GOLIGHTLY looked wistfully on the face of Manhattan as she prepared to depart for Rio. "Years from now, years and years, I'll be back," she declared. "Me and my nine Brazilian brats. I'll bring them back, all right. Because they must see this."