The subway station closest to my home is the 181st Street stop on the A train. There are two ways to exit the station – one at 184th Street and one at 181st Street. Because I live in Washington Heights (named thus for a reason), the hills in my neighborhood are intense. If I enter the subway station at 184th Street, I only need to walk about 2 minutes. It’s a short half block from my building and the road is flat. If I enter the subway at 181st Street, it takes a good 20 minutes to get there, all uphill. For six months the 184th Street entrance to the subway was closed for construction. That meant my morning commute was at least 20 minutes longer and I was guaranteed to arrive at the office sweating from my uphill climb to the subway. It may sound like a small thing, but New Yorkers know that an inconvenience like the one I’m describing can take on gigantic proportions in our daily lives. Living in New York City is challenging on a good day and most New Yorkers have their routines planned meticulously to avoid as much additional stress as possible. We are already stressed – we don’t need more! 

The closed subway entrance was the topic of conversation among my family and neighbors for months. We obsessed over it, complained about it, and asked each other repeatedly, “When will the construction be finished?” And, then it was. With no warning, the entrance suddenly opened one Monday in mid-October. Photos of the open entrance flooded my phone in texts from friends and family along with celebratory emojis. We were all ecstatic. (Seriously, ecstatic. It’s the little things.) 

It’s been over a month now and my memory of my annoyance over the closed entrance, of needing to wake up earlier and to dress in layers to accommodate the long uphill walk every morning has started to fade. This is called hedonic adaptation. It is in our nature to adapt to the positive or negative effects of events in our lives and return to a stable state. This process is helpful when we experience setbacks, as it fosters resilience, but it robs us of continuing to enjoy successes and wins, even big ones, over time. 

As many of you know I moved into a new office in September and I have been enjoying the bright, clean space as well as the larger accommodations for meetings and collaborative work. I was on a long Zoom call in my new office with my colleagues, Drs. Field and Buontempo, when Dr. Field said, “It’s so great you no longer have to deal with your office lights being on a timer. I remember when we had long Zoom meetings and your office lights would constantly go out and you’d have to wave your arms around to get them to turn on again.” I had completely forgotten about that. I would be in the middle of a sentence on Zoom when the timer would shut off in my office and I found myself speaking in the dark. I’d then have to wave my arms around like I was swatting a fast flying bee just to get the lights on again. It was embarrassing to have to explain to people that, no, my office was not infested with flying insects, but that the timer didn’t notice me when I was sitting at my computer. Argh! I had completely forgotten to enjoy the absence of that whole drama in my new office. I was missing out enjoying this small win. (Thank you, Dr. Field for reminding me.) 

And, then, there is you and us, in person, when a few short years ago we were only allowed to interact remotely. When the pandemic first waned and we were finally able to teach in person on campus again I relished hearing the sound of students’ voices talking and laughing together in class. It was infinitely better than the little boxes holding students’ faces staring at me silently on Zoom, their mics x’ed out in red. I tried to take notice of my joy in being in person when we first came back. But, then it faded. I now find myself irritated again when the a/v in the classroom is acting up or when the temperature is not to my liking. These are small things that are really not worth my disappointment. Rather, I am trying to remind myself to (re)-appreciate the sound of all of you talking and learning together and the sight of all of you in the classroom in 3D. 

This is the season of gratitude. Yet, these are also hard times and our shared world is deeply troubled. Many, if not all of us, are anxious and stressed. Some of us are experiencing pain, fear and grief. And, there are things to be happy about and people to be grateful for all around us. This is especially true if we remind ourselves to resist hedonic adaptation. So, I am trying to remember to be grateful for my open subway entrance, for my new office with lights that stay on during Zoom meetings, and most especially, for the privilege of working with each of you, with my colleagues and with the TC community. I love my job and I love being able to come to campus to teach, learn, grow and laugh with all of you.

Wishing you a very Happy Thanksgiving, a wonderful four-day weekend, many hours of relaxation, and lots of yummy food.