I was locked out once and had to spend the night in the streets of New York City. Nothing could have prepared me for such an unforgettable and seemingly never ending mishap. I was delirious and exhausted, hauling my luggage bag in a desperate attempt to get warm and positioned.
All I could think about was the faux pas that got me into the situation to begin with. All I could think about was how close and yet how far safety was. I wanted home. When I finally got situated in Penn Station after hours of walking, I looked across from me and head nodded another brother. He gazed, then head nodded me back, as if in solidarity knowing exactly what I was going through.
Suddenly, I did feel safe. It then dawned on me that the entire situation was parabolic. I realized that I wasn't even uncomfortable, I was just anxious. I needed to be scatter brained. I was moving too fast, I needed to be humbled. It was momentary, but my new brother had been at it a lot longer. He helped me restructure my priorities, all without saying a single word. I was home all along.