I made it back to NYC after spending years away.

I feel like a tourist, mostly because I am. I do not feel like a New Yorker, anymore. I notice different things than I did before, and it’s strange to think how much my perspective has changed.

There are weed shops everywhere, which doesn’t bother me so much as it surprises me. There are men and women pandering boxes of weed on every street corner in midtown, selling products for less than the fluorescent-lit shops that line the street behind them.

Everyone seems to be standing, waiting. What are they waiting for? Aren’t they cold? I’m walking, pumping blood through my body, and I’m cold. I have lost my tougher exterior, maybe. Cold wind rushes down the street and shocks me.

The city that buzzes like a hive and once scared me with its hurried energy is now a fascination. In the country, I am still buzzing, but I buzz inside my mind instead of scurrying from street to street, stopping abruptly as I wait for the crosswalk sign to flash me along.

It feels like an alternate universe here. Like someplace that I heard existed but never saw. I am an outsider, living far far away from here.

But I love it, still. It’s like coming home. It’s like turning the knob on a childhood memory, where chicken soup with turnips and carrots is cooking on the other side of the door. My mother is burning a cinnamon candle and the kitchen smells like 409.

Today I’ll get lost in the city and let the day take me where it wants to. I’ll set no intention and see what life has in store. I’ll get swept up in what this place was made for: randomness, a little chaos, and intrigue. Letting go of expectations always brings me peace. I’m so excited.

What brings you peace this week? Share the peace!