Cosmos

Days race past you in hours clocked in and not many clocked out. Nights are short and moments to process few, but you pay your bills and when an hour appears among friends, you drink the wine: everything is weightless. I went for a run along the river at sunset, the Bay on fire and a full moon twinkling over Brooklyn. It was not fast, or particularly long, my breath slow and steady, mind unoccupied; I lifted my head like I so rarely remember, looked at the oily blues of the water, the shifting colors of twilight, the familiar, reassuring outline of New York City in every direction. I was happy.

Sometimes we do not win in extravagance. Sometimes it is slow, and steady, and remembering to keep your head up. Sometimes it is just putting one foot in front of the other, and in every step, being
exactly
where you
are.