Measure The Moment
<p>Iwas twenty-five years old when I decided to board the greyhound bus with a backpack and a suitcase for New York City. I had no job, no apartment, no friends nor family waiting for me when I arrived at the bus station. I was alone — and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t overthinking everything that first night in the city. I remember sitting down in one of the four beds at the hostel and thinking “I really, really fucked up,” as I fought the urge to call the parents, or call anyone for that matter, and hear some comforts over the phone. For the decision was mine. I left everything I’d ever known — the familiar, the comfortable — and I went outward into the unknown. I said goodbye to the family, the bird’s nest, and flew off. Now I won’t explain why I left the midwest, as the reasons are another story, but I believe my departure to be the right place for you to understand what I felt about life thereafter and how I found Measure the Moment<em>.</em></p>
<p><a href="https://medium.com/@sean.michael.berry/measure-the-moment-86dcb5012497"><strong>Read More</strong></a></p>