Brooklyn No. 1
There is a moment of serendipity that is earned after a hundred steps forward are taken despite one's greatest trepidations. You don't know this serendipitous moment is coming. You don't realize what it is until it's upon you. It is the briefest of reprieves from the doubts that nag your mind, and the fears that come to call as soon as you're tucked in for bed. It's a singular moment of peace where you are assured that, yes-- you were right to work for this life you're living. Yes--you made a good choice. I felt this earlier in the week as I stepped out of the Fulton Street subway station to a gentle summer rain. Passer-bys lifted newspapers and bags over their heads, colorful umbrellas--green, blue, and purple polka dots--sprouted up along the street. They hurried into shops out of the rain. I slowed my steps. I couldn't hold back my smile. A warmth spread through my chest as the rain kindly dappled my face and arms. The harmonies of "O ...