Colfax Therapy

I am in love with Colfax; I truly believe that it is one of the most interesting streets in the world. Whenever I feel myself drifting away from the world, a quick jaunt down Colfax usually pulls me right back to the present. Yes, Colfax mindfulness may be more of a protection than relaxation mechanism, but when you get down to it that’s really the same function, right? Yesterday afternoon was a particularly poignant day on the strip. Here’s a bit of the insight Colfax graced me with:

Self-Esteem: Walking down the strip, I received a “Hey, girl, you looking good!” at nearly every corner. Is it just me, or is this new, bigger booty doing the trick? Lesson: They like big butts.

Nostalgia: Walking past the Fillmore, I note the long line of hardcore rockers, eagerly anticipating a mosh pit-filled concert. Then, I noticed two young boys standing to the side and looking as if they want to curl back up into their snail shells. Their mother, eying the mohawks and plaid mini-skirts, muttered, “See? This is what I’m talking about. I just don’t know…” Lesson: It’s good to be a grown-up. And thank you, Mom.

Social Incentive: Walking past the many bars and restaurants, I can’t help but marvel at the young guys and gals who sit back with a beer, riding out the dwindling afternoon hours. They’re completely in the moment, enjoying one another’s company and a frothy brew. Lesson: Life’s good. Make friends and enjoy it.

Healthy Exercise: Walking down Colfax, I am passed by several groups of joggers. It seems odd to me that so many would brave the heckling of the homeless and the exhaust of a never-ending stream of cars, until I see the line out the door at the Irish Snug. It’s Thursday, which means it’s the Snug’s running group night. As I pass the line of sweaty joggers waiting for their post-run free pasta, I am reminded that the body needs to fuel to move. Lesson: Eat, jog, and be merry.

Logic: Walking down the glass-speckled, cigarette-infested, trash-cluttered sidewalk, I encounter a runner going in the opposite direction. This runner is not going to the Snug but straight to the hospital (or so I think he should) because he is running without shoes. Now, I understand this whole “natural running movement,” where going shoe-less is supposed to help your form and be better for your feet, blah blah blah. But running down Colfax without shoes? That’s insane! Lesson: What doesn’t feel good probably isn’t.

Acceptance: Walking down Colfax, I notice that the traffic and people never cease to flow past. Someone once referred to Colfax as a “river” and I know exactly why: it just keeps going, day in and day out, no matter what construction or traffic or dirt tries to get in the way. Isn’t that really how life is? With my willpower I may be able to divert the flow or patch a pothole, but in the end traffic will just keep moving of its own accord. Accidents happen, but things just keep going. Lesson: Have faith in the flow.

Connectedness: Walking down Colfax, I see a lot of people and a lot of interesting things. One moment I’m giggling, then feeling a sense of awe, then extremely curios, then repulsed, or all of these things or none of these things. The point is that walking down Colfax reminds me how beautiful the world is (even in all of its ugliness) and how lucky I am to be an aware, active member of it. Somehow, I feel connected to the little shops and the smells and the homeless people and the prostitutes (don’t worry- connected doesn’t mean friendly!). Lesson: Keep your eyes open, chin up, and you can’t help but see.

I remember one day when I walked from my internship on 16th to my parents house, a couple blocks off Colfax. I felt so drained and depressed that I cried the whole way. I didn’t notice any of Colfax’s wonders; I can’t remember anything from that walk except feeling totally, completely miserable. When I arrived, my sister asked what was wrong. I couldn’t explain it then because I didn’t have the brain power to decipher even my own feelings. All I knew was that I wanted to disappear.

I’ve done the disappearing thing and am so lucky to have had the chance. But now I begin to open my eyes and flex my muscles, and Colfax is still there, ready to boggle me again. There’s a lesson to be learned on every corner and I am its most willing student.