It's 92 in NYC. Creeping up to 100. It's been the kind of heat where the breeze is so hot it makes you warmer, not cooler.
The other day (which was even hotter) I found myself pacing impatiently at the Christopher Street stop in the subway. As my legs slipped around each other glazed in sweat, my arms akimbo for ventilation, I noticed the scene around me: a mini dog's head flopped over its LV carrying bag like a lifeless bob, giving up. Mr. Banker man's light blue shirt was all dark blue. The homeless man just sat on the bench, looking like he normally does. The sexy girl's make-up was dripping, she seemed devastated. We all were quiet. Slow. Mouths open. Waiting and waiting for the 1 train with messed up service. Looking desperately into the tunnel for a sign of two lights.
What I realized in that moment was just how connected I felt to everyone there with me. Money, power, sex, brand names, hurts in heart, places traveled, degrees earned, good deeds done, crimes committed, whatever it was that we were or doing, had or strived for- none of that mattered. In that heat, on that platform, all that defined us as individuals was perspired away leaving each person in the same - wilted, breathing, and being. I felt each one of them.
I just think that's cool.