Hudson Street

Welcome to my daily beat.

I walk a few blocks down Hudson Street to work.
When it's warm, I walk a few blocks up to eat lunch outside in St. Luke's garden.

When the weather permits, I walk all the way down past the end of Hudson to meet with believers to worship, study, and pray at a loft in the Financial District.
Other days, I walk all the way up to visit friends in Chelsea.

Along the way, I sometimes buy a bagel at Hudson Bagels or a coffee at Dunkin Donuts (I sheepishly hide this from my co-workers, since my shrinking soul can't stand up to their scorn for the place.)

Sometimes I see children in Tribeca, always a welcome sight in this oddly child-barren city. These children are usually better dressed than I am, and I can tell their haircuts probably cost three times as much as mine, but they are kids and I refuse to be intimidated.

My new habit as I walk to the loft is to read or listen to a psalm of ascent. As much as I love this city, the constant judgments passed by others (and by myself) wear me out, and I need my heart realigned before I can sing a hymn sincerely.

Ps 123

 To you I lift up my eyes,
    O you who are enthroned in the heavens!
² Behold, as the eyes of servants
    look to the hand of their master,
as the eyes of a maidservant
    to the hand of her mistress,
so our eyes look to the Lord our God,
    till he has mercy upon us.

Have mercy upon us, O Lord, have mercy upon us,
    for we have had more than enough of contempt.
⁴ Our soul has had more than enough
    of the scorn of those who are at ease,
    of the contempt of the proud.