I felt myself spiraling in the late afternoon last week. I am still not sure what exactly set me off. I know that it was something I picked up from the generally stressful atmosphere at my workplace. But ultimately, what caused it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that once this happened my brain started circling the drain. I started spiraling into increasingly more pessimistic and defeated thoughts.

But the night before I had made plans to go to meet some friends at the back of a coffee shop to talk about books and catch up. So even though I felt sloth-like and ready to sink into the furniture, I felt compelled to scrape myself off of my bed and back out into the world. Once I hoisted myself out into the sunlight, I did immediately feel better.

It was a gorgeous springtime day. The sky felt infinite above me. It was a stunning blue with picture-perfect fluffy white streaks marbled through it. On the train ride to the coffee shop I leaned my head towards the window and watched the sky as it passed me by. In that moment, I could no longer access the darkness that had been circling around me moments before when I was alone in my apartment. All of my existential angst no longer mattered. It genuinely felt like it was enough to simply exist in such a beautiful world. I wondered how much of the unhappiness I had experienced up to this point in life had been simply because I had forgotten that I was existing under this beautiful blue sky. That’s how important the clarity and brightness of the spring day felt to me in that moment.

Eventually we came up to my stop and I got off the train. This stop was one I used to frequent in an earlier time in my life. It was the area of the city where I found late nights, intoxication, and relationships that were at first exhilarating and then toxic. I had a visceral sense memory as I descended the staircase from the platform onto the city street. I felt as though I was going to turn the corner and see my old friend standing there, asking where I had been. But then I remembered that we hadn’t spoken in years, and that there was ample reason as to why the relationship imploded. Memories are best enjoyed as highlight reels but ultimately left in the past.

So, I turned the corner and walked. I walked past a boarded-up building that used to be a club that stayed open until 4 in the morning. I had a memory of being there and dancing with friends and laughing right before the world shut down during the pandemic. I also walked past a giant liquor store. I have a memory of walking its maze-like interior one night and emerging with a bottle of Scotch to find my friends having a photo shoot with a total stranger. I still have those photos on my phone.

I walked past all of those places and I walked into a coffee shop I had never been to before. I ordered a drink that was not what I would normally drink. It was also not what I expected it to be (but it turned out to be delightful). I walked out into the sunlight, onto the patio behind the coffee shop to join my friends. And we laughed and I was pulled back – out of nostalgia and existential longing – and into the moment. It felt needed.