A city of full moments and hard knocks

About a year ago, as the daffodils were breaking in Central Park, I left a heated board room on Park Ave, descended 30 floors, and walked a dozen blocks north to my favorite French bistro in the city.

I had one thing in mind: to have a long, lazy lunch.

By the time the poulet cajun landed on my table, accompanied by some tasty white wine, I began to imagine how I might occupy myself in the year ahead…

I would slow down, start writing a blog, read some important books, focus on having better conversations and work on a few projects with people I respected and admired (I wrote down three names).

A year’s gone by, so it’s time for a gut-check. How are things going?

So far, I’m pretty happy with the results. (I’ve learned that striving for perfection is pointless).

So tonight it’s time to savor the fullness of the moment, because as sure as I hear that garbage truck clanking and groaning outside my window, I know that NYC will remain a school of unpredictable, hard knocks.

Photo credit: OS