Gentrification Mindfulness: The Challenge of Unwanted Change

By Irene Javors, LMHC

There is is restaurant/ bar in my Jackson Heights neighborhood that has been around for some 60 years. Everyone knows the place. The food isn't very good but the drinks are great and the bartender knows everyone by first name. When you walk into the place, you feel that you have entered a time warp and you are now in the 1950's. The juke box plays Sinatra and Rosemary Clooney and noone has heard of Lady GaGa or The Black Eyed Peas. On the weekends, the two televisions are tuned onto whatever is the sport of the moment and everyone cheers or boo's the team of choice.

I have spent many days sipping a glass of wine and watching tennis or football with the guys, just hanging out and shooting the breeze.

All of this will vanish after the airing of the Super Bowl on Sunday February 7. The landlord has raised the rent to an astronomical level and there is no way that the owners can pay. After over half a century, The Cavalier is closing due to gentrification. Four other stores and businesses are also closing on that block because of rising rents. These "mom and pop" venues are to be replaced with more "with it," commercial ventures.

Long time residents are angry/sad and feeling helpless in the face of the changes that are taking place in their neighborhood. No one wants these businesses to go but a tsunami wave of change is happening without our consent. What makes all of this so difficult is that we don't know what's going to replace what is being taken away.

From a mindfulness perspective, the passing of The Cavalier is a lesson in impermanence. Nothing is forever and the sooner we learn this reality, the better equipped we are to rise to the challenges of living. This doesn't mean that unwanted change feels good. It means that we learn to be mindful of the preciousness of each moment of our lives. We learn to take nothing for granted. My feelings are in conflict with my mindfulness practice- I cling to what is passing while knowing full well that life is change.

When I was a child and very upset, my mother who knew nothing about Buddhism or mindfulness would say, "this too will pass," as a way to comfort me and direct my attention away from whatever it was that pained me. Indeed, in her intuitive wisdom, she simply stated a major truth, "everything passes."

So, I salute The Cavalier. You have had 60 years of wonderful patrons and lots of love and laughs. Not a bad legacy!

Nostalgia mindfulness: Staying present when your past creeps up on you

By Irene Javors, LMHC

I have lived in NYC my entire 60 years. I have seen whole neighborhoods undergo so much change that they have become unrecognizable to me. Usually, I do not think much about any of this and I just go on my way. But, today I felt differently. I was walking along fourteenth street between sixth and seventh avenues to meet a friend for breakfast. As I passed the discount places, shoe stores, jewelry dealers, and sidewalk hustlers, I remembered walking along this same street with my father on a Saturday morning in the mid-1950's when I was around 8 or 9 years old. Every week we shlepped in from Brooklyn so that I could take guitar lessons at my father's union headquarters. At that time, fourteenth street was a dump. As I remember, the avenue seemed to be perpetually cast in steel grey tones.

Today's walk along this selfsame street conjured up these memories from very long ago. I felt a nostalgia for the past and found myself removed from the now. I became mindful that I felt a longing and a sadness for a world that no longer exists except within the inaccuracies of my mind. These feelings were also attached to others: I felt really old and I wondered if anyone else remembered fourteenth street the way that I did. I resented all the changes and I wished that life didn't have to change so much.

Through all of this mess of fluctuating emotions, I remained mindful of the importance of staying in the present. The 'nostalgia trip' that I found myself on was a way to distract myself from dealing with my own relationship to change and aging.

Not clinging to the past is really difficult. The wonderful thing about NYC is that it is ever changing and ever new. The city may get a bit tired and dragged out at times, but Gotham always finds a way of renewing itself. The city has been around a long time yet it knows how to 'optimally age' - do the most with what its got- by maintaining its openness, curiosity, spontaneity, and humor. Cultivating these qualities within ourselves are the best way to stay present and not succumb to the 'nostalgia blues.'