I’m back from nine days there and the feeling is so strong: I love the place. I think about it right now and start smiling. Woh. This is strange. I’ve been to other amazing cities over the years, such as San Francisco and Toronto, but none of them have forced my eyes open wide. Not even Vancouver, where the mountains meet the sea. I lived there for two years but it didn’t leave me shaking my head. But New York does.

So many people rushing down the street, ignoring red lights and “Don’t Walk” signals. Homemade signs next to giant neon. Impatient drivers honking at trespassers every minute or two. The wail of sirens flying to the next emergency. Subway trains available 24/7, and absolutely packed at rush hour. Musicians moving and grooving in the tunnels as five million people a day stream past. Impossibly tall buildings smushed up against each other, some built a hundred years ago. Canyons of wind. Seemingly a pub on every corner. The best bagels I’ve ever tasted. Endlessly helpful people for the Canadian who’s trying to find his bearings. Times Square! Broadway!

I’m a meditator. I like quiet. So what’s going on? How can this hustle and bustle feel like home? How come I slept through the noises of the night? Where, oh where, is this head of mine?

The rational mind can’t figure this out. And that’s fine. I’ll just let the Alice in Wonderland statue in Central Park beckon me back to the city … sometime soon. Next time I’ll come with a companion and we’ll trip the light fantastic. New York deserves all of our joie de vivre. I’m up for it.