24 Hours in Brooklyn

With only 24 hours and a huge blizzard on its way, everything truly worked out in our favor. We spent the morning commute talking about bagels then ended a 2-hour train ride to see a giant “bagels” sign right next to a little book shop. We each ate half of our bagel and stored the other half in our coat pocket. We kept passing strangers then turning to each other with a sigh as we repeated, “No one knows there’s a bagel in my pocket right now.”

The weather wasn’t too cold, and though our feet eventually grew tired, we felt so blessed to walk. Every building I passed was praised- look at the windows! I love their warm lighting! Those bricks are beautiful! With so many coffee shops, vintage stores, and bars on every corner I can’t imagine how one can choose their favorite spot. I was overcome by the urge to give each my full attention. There is a magic in the air here; I can be anything- do anything here.

We walked to the East River to soak in the sun and people watch. Seeing the lives here made me feel so moved. They belonged here- they accepted us.

At dinner, we were gifted a free boba- after commenting on how delicious it looked- and drank it on the walk back to our room, passing it back and forth like a blunt. We laughed constantly to the point of tears. The joy was contagious. How could it get any better?

Before the show we got free shots at the bar. We felt loose and young and full of gratitude. We talked to locals and took up space. We belonged here. I went to bed physically exhausted, but spiritually recharged. I want to create and I want to dream.

Finding God on the L

Taking the train is a grounding practice,  

The youth’s new meditative state 

I coax my legs to be loose,  

Letting the accelerating jolts vibrate through me, like Jello 

I find my center- extended and strong,  

Yet soft enough to excavate a sense of calm in the eclectic crowd 

The man in the corner, salted grey with age  

Balances with just one hand atop his wood carved cane,  

And the other wraps around himself subliminally 

Like a bird who starts to sing when the morning sun shows 

With a knowing wink he becomes my guru 

 I witness the world rocking around him,  

But he is an anchor that does not sway 

Quiet and contemplative with a soft smile on his wrinkled face 

He dodges the disruptive ships that wish to set him a drift 

So, with an inspired sigh I ground down a little deeper 

With a nod of respect to the God on the L train