Help When Crossing Abbey Road.

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<p>“Poor Ballet Slippers” This picture is a candid shot from my shoot with the following all star girl power fashion team; Styling by: @fls_fashionlovesstyle, Make up by: @yael.balbachan & Photography by: @floraversano.photograpgy </p>

“Poor Ballet Slippers” This picture is a candid shot from my shoot with the following all star girl power fashion team; Styling by: @fls_fashionlovesstyle, Make up by: @yael.balbachan & Photography by: @floraversano.photograpgy

As I wait on the platform at Penn Station for the next subway car to take me to Columbus Circle, I can’t ‘help’ but wonder what Lyrics The Beatles would have written had John, Paul, Ringo and George, been living in New York City in 2017. My destination is only a ten minute walk away but due to a hit and run accident, I am unable to make the journey on foot.

In spite of having a ticket to ride no local trains are appearing unlike several express trains going to the same set destination. I am incapable of getting to that platform because of all of the stairs. And I have no idea if there is an easy access elevator to assist. There was a sweet MTA worker who noticed I was struggling and I think he would have happily carried me had I have asked. But being British, I don’t want to put anyone out- let alone a stranger. Our motto is exactly that of one of the most catchiest Beatles tunes “ob-la-di ob-la-da, bra-la la then life goes on”. And boy does it. Even if you feel like your life has been temporarily paused, the rest of the city will continue to whizz by you moving at full speed.

The past few weeks have been an eye opener into how hard Manhattan is to live in- with any sort of mobility issues. Luckily for me I’ve survived and been getting by with a little help from my friends. Many of whom have experienced a similar stumbling block at some point or another. My friends have been incredible. They have showed up to my apartment with almond milk, guacamole, gin and insomnia cookies (all the necessities needed to put a smile on a girl’s face who is temporarily down on her luck). Many have popped round to walk my crazed Pug (who is possibly the lovechild of the Tazmanian devil & road runner). And one friend came all the way from Queens to hang my curtain up (which naughty dog aforementioned had pulled down.)

In spite of my friends efforts to ease my situation, they are not able to accompany me at all times. And the times when I felt most that my independence had vanished in the haze, were the occasions outside of my apartment, wearing a knee brace and trying to go about a normal day.

The accident resulted in me drastically slowing down- an alien feeling to me. All of the roads, no matter how short in distance seemed to be long and winding. And until I was moving at the speed of a three legged tortoise I had never comprehended that 14 seconds is NOT long enough to cross a street in Manhattan. After all, these crosswalks are not Abbey Road, and I usually have not left the house looking like Jesus and more importantly I have recently found out that cars will drive into you- red light or not.

My issues and anxiety when crossing streets are passing, but what about those with more permanent situations? Not so long ago, I saw a well to do elderly Russian lady wave her cane in defiance whilst vehemently cursing at a long stream of motorists after they had honked their horns out of impatience from their brief delay- caused by her hobbling journey. I used to think perhaps this will be me when I am 64. But this is also me now.

I am astounded at the lack of care and concern for one another around the city. Especially because it appears that we all have or will experience these challenges the borough of Manhattan presents to us when we are no longer strong and able bodied. I have never so badly in my life wanted to start a revolution. A revolt to raise awareness for human kindness and compassion.

I have accepted that I am powerless and will never be able to enforce stronger laws on motorists. I have little faith that the MTA will spend some of their billions dollars of funding on making the subway more accessible to those with small children or disabilities. But, I have utter conviction that if we all would just come together we can help one another.

Next time you are riding the subway, take a moment to pause your crazy cat video and take time to look around the carriage to see if there is anyone more in need of a seat than you. Do you see anyone with their arm in a sling or a pregnant woman? If you do, offer them your seat. First let me assure you that they have more than likely had a much more testing day than yours. And that there will be nothing more satisfying than seeing the gratitude and joy in the recipients face (although I do have it on good authority that a pregnant woman may burst into tears- but know this is a happy meltdown due to hormones).

If you are walking up and down stairs and see a mother with a baby carriage, pause your day to help her and pick up the other end. She’s probably endured a hard day’s night with a teething toddler.

During the rush hour commute, stop twisting in and out of people and shouting- take a second to think that perhaps the hold up is not only from a mass of people but maybe there’s a traveller with a torn ACL who is trying to make it to work on time as much as you are.

All of these acts will only add seconds to your day. They will not hinder your life goals in anyway. You will just be spreading joy, peace and love like The Beatles intended to do with their music.

So stop being a nowhere man, pause and think what it’s like for a day in the life of the person more in need. And help.