This morning I wake up feeling rested. Strangely centered, as if growth has transpired during sleep and I stand tall at the precipice of something larger than I can comprehend. I lie in the sweaty sheets and breathe the morning deeply into my lungs, the salty Hudson River, the twisting Ginkgo tree-lined streets, the rusted-out iron fire escape outside my bedroom window that follows a path toward the future. I consider that maybe the terrifying nightmares and the daydreams of what tomorrow holds have arrived at a compromise. I can see the experiences of my youth in Chicago and my growing up years in New York City all collated in precise, cataloged fashion.
Such a curious sense of calm is eerie and leaves me ruffled. My first steps out of bed are tentative and exploratory. I search the apar
