After years of moving -- brief stints in multiple cities. I’ve found that having a place to call “home” is immeasurably valuable. The passage of time is not only sharper, but sweeter.  

“That’s where I used to bartend” I think on my way to work. Oh how far I’ve come!

Every moment I spent wringing my hands over some perceived existential grievance, now comes flowing back in a more pleasant light.

Nostalgia tends to be easy on hardship.

“Sometimes I go about in pity for myself, but all the while, a great wind carries me across the sky”.

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