This is a story.
Charcoal clouds circled in the valley from high above the city’s center. A man, a little older than the both of us, stood on his doorstep in a town miles away and watched the black veil stretch from the infinite sky down to the ground below and violently swirl east to west and west to east, but always being brought back towards the center by some unseen force. The clouds moved so quickly he wasn’t sure they were moving at all.
Squinting his eyes, he witnessed the clouds pass over far away buildings, and when they had moved on, there was no sight of the previously familiar buildings. No steeples, no towers blocking his view through the valley now. [Excerpt]
There’s more to it than subway maps and spiritual cycling. My first year in New York has been quite the whirlwind. But in between the heights of steel and emotions, I’ve had a good amount of space to sink down deep into my own awareness and think about my journey. If we turned back time 365 days, here are the five lessons that I would aim to teach myself at the start of this adventure. [Excerpt]
It's up here, between bushes and bricks, that I've been able to see more clearly during this somewhat morning ritual of mine. Runners fly past, and I can tell. Some of them are running towards something - they have this vision in their eyes, hopes for something up ahead. Others, I can tell, are running from something. From the person they are, or were. I guess that's really how we all ended up here. One or the other. [Excerpt]
