Sometimes, when riding the métro to work in the morning, I stare at everyone around me and feel dispirited.
Last year, when I was being interviewed about Vent Over Tea, I was asked: “What does service mean to you?”
This simple question gave me pause.
The cold wind sends shivers up your spine and puts a heaviness in your heart that wasn’t there before.
Do you ever blink and then an entire year of life passes you by? Do you ever feel like you lay your head to rest on Monday night only to open your eyes and realize it’s the following Monday?
What does being part of a community mean to you? Does it represent your relation to those who live in close proximity to you? Does it mean block parties and borrowed sugar? Does it mean familiar faces and communal spaces?