Navigating the West Village of our lives.

W4th intersects W10th in the West Village

The paradox of Manhattan is that despite the hustle and frenzy she sustains, despite the disproportionate amount of creative energy she generates, and despite the sheer volume of people crisscrossing her streets all day and all night, the island is relatively contained and accessible.

In fact, the city is surprisingly easy to navigate. That is, until it isn’t.

You see, for the most part, Manhattan is a simple grid. The streets run East to West. The avenues run South to North. All numbered and lettered in sequential order. Logic amidst the chaos. Ease amidst the discomfort.

Addresses are expressed in co-ordinates: “I’ll meet you at the restaurant, it’s on West 20th between 5th and 6th.” The street comes first. This gives an indication of where the location is along the length of the island. Uptown, Downtown or somewhere in between. The avenue comes next. An indication of how far East or West, with 5th Avenue dividing the two.

In fact, co-ordinates are so much part of the navigational vernacular that there is zero tolerance for street addresses. Ever. I hailed a cab after an X-ray revealed a broken foot. Clinging precariously to my newly-acquired crutches, and too flustered to plot the exact location, I handed the driver the business card with the doctor’s address. He took one look at it and barked, “A street address means nothing in New York – I can’t work with this!”

I mean, he does have a point. Co-ordinates make it easy even for newcomers to get around the city. Once you’ve emerged from the subway and worked out which corner you’re on – by deciphering your Uptown from your Downtown, and your East from your West – finding your destination becomes a fairly self-explanatory exercise.

But as I say, the city is easy to navigate, until it isn’t.

Which brings me to one of the most perplexing issues I have ever faced in New York: West 4th Street.

Like all other streets, it starts off running East to West. Until it doesn’t. At some point, West 4th Street goes rogue and leaves the grid. Without any explanation, it changes course and becomes almost perpendicular to the streets it was once running parallel to. Can anyone explain how it defies all logic and ends up crossing West 10th Street?

Not only does West 4th go rogue, but it joins a bunch of other rebellious streets that make up the entangled maze that is the West Village. Charles. Christopher. Grove. Perry. Bleecker. No matter how often I have walked these streets, or stared at a map, I just can’t seem to grasp a mental lay of the land.

So, how does one get around this jumbled part of the city? After years of getting lost, I decided to adopt a new strategy. I stopped trying to find logic in the chaos, and I stopped trying to have it all figured out. Instead, I simply put one foot in front of the other.

I learned that the best way to navigate the West Village is to take it one step at a time.

Kind of like life, right?

Sometimes our lives are as predictable as the Manhattan grid, unfolding with order and precision. Perhaps one school year follows another. College follows school. One promotion leads to the next. Or milestones such as marriage and kids provide clear markers on life’s roadmap.

But sometimes our life story goes rogue – just like West 4th Street – and we find ourselves in the metaphorical West Village of our lives. It’s that place where we don’t have a clear idea of where we are, and we have no idea how to get where we want to go.

There are many reasons you could end up in this place. Perhaps you were thrown off the grid, not by choice, but by one of life’s curveballs. A lost job. A divorce. A world event. But, perhaps, you made the conscious choice to step off the grid. You veered off the expected path and followed a calling. Towards a dream. Towards the unknown.

Whatever the reason for landing in the jumbled streets of life, the complexity of navigation remains the same.

So, in the absence of Google Maps for Life, where we can’t plug in Point A and Point B to get clear directions, how do we get from one place to another?

Perhaps we do exactly as I do when I get to the West Village:
We take it One. Step. At. A. Time.

On some days, things flow easily and I pride myself on getting to my destination directly. On other days, I take a few unplanned detours, discovering new streets, new cafés, new faces along the way. And yet, on other days, I don’t get to my destination at all. Instead, I find myself some place entirely different to where I had intended to go.

Learning to navigate uncertainty is one of the greatest gifts my move to New York has granted me. As with setting out on the unknown path towards any dream, where you have a clear vision of where you want to go, but no clear path to get there, the only way through is to put one foot in front of the other.

Now of course this sounds far more simple in theory than it is in reality. For in reality, my overanalytical brain tries to escape ten steps ahead. It likes to take the Google approach - to figure it all out, to jump to the end point, to plot every step along the way. But all this approach has ever brought me is unnecessary worry and fear, with little benefit or impact on the outcome.

And that’s because no amount of future analysis could change the fact that the only step I could ever take was the very next one in front of me.

There have been times when the next step was obvious and life unfolded with ease. New homes. New jobs. New friends. New encounters. But more often than I was used to, I found myself trying to stay buoyant in uncharted waters. Sudden job losses. Visa deadlines. Self-doubt. Relationships that led me by the hand at pivotal stages of my journey, but weren’t meant to stay forever.

Being thrown into the unknown goes with the territory of pursuing any dream you may have. The sheer definition of following a dream means walking a path you’ve never walked before, encountering obstacles you’ve never encountered before.

It also goes with the territory of living in New York. For New York is a city where life feels like it’s always teetering on the edge of unpredictability. I guess this makes sense for a city built on dreams.

And so every time I got bounced into the unknown, I’d try find my footing before walking step by step into the next chapter. Where I’d enjoy a sense of stability. For a while.

Because life is a constant balance between the predictability of the Manhattan grid, and the uncertainty of the West Village.

I’ve come to believe that we’re not meant to be in either one indefinitely. After being on the grid for some time, savoring its comfort and safety, it’s time to go rogue again. To get lost in life’s maze.

Because it’s from this place that we’re forced to explore, to think outside the box, to be open to the unexpected. To let go of control and let the streets of life lead the way. And as uncomfortable and daunting as this place may be, even scary at times, it’s also what makes us feel alive.

So, next time you find yourself in the West Village of your life, glance back at how far you’ve come. Try not look too far ahead. And take One. Step. At. A. Time.

And, as you do, hold onto the trust and knowing that somehow every step will build upon the one before to create a path forward. Perhaps you’ll end up exactly where you intended to go. Or, perhaps, you’ll end up somewhere completely unexpected.