Hope.

My life has changed in so many ways recently and I’ve barely had time to sit and catch my breath for a moment. I guess that’s what Tillies on a rainy Wednesday night is for.

Work has picked up over the last few weeks. I’m being challenged daily and being forced to be productive, accountable, and proactive. I’m working very hard, but I’m so glad to be in a position that pushes me to be better. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of doing a day of good, hard work.

On top of that I just moved last weekend. I have yet to unpack most of my things, nor do I have many of the essentials of my daily life at my new place (hence Tillies on a rainy Wednesday night).

New living and working environments are only a coupe factors that are contributing to the recent revamping of my life, but the overall effect is that the world around me seems new. A large shift in my mental attitude has accompanied these physical changes to produce a sense of calm and peace about things that I have recently fretted over. I’m relaxed. Life is busy, but good. Great even.

This evolution culminated in a way last night. Following a long day at work I went over to a friends apartment for food, drinks, and election results. The six of us sat around the TV, watching predictions come in as the votes were tallied as we talked about the race. Obama took Ohio and soon after CNN had pronounced a win for the Democratic candidate. Brooklyn went nuts. Darin was just getting off the subway when this was announced and as he came into the room he said, “I heard screaming on the streets, so I’m assuming good news.”

As we walked outside to check out the pandemonium people screamed from the balconies of nearby apartment buildings, cars honked their horns as they drove through the neighborhood. As we made our way to Myrtle Avenue we slapped hands and hugged random strangers of all races and ages. I walked by a black woman in her mid fifties standing just inside the gate of her brownstone. “We’re gonna be alright,” she wept, “it all going to be ok now.” I could see the tears reflecting the orange of the street lamp. We locked hand and she pulled me into a hug. For a moment I didn’t think she was going to let go.

Myrtle Avenue was going off. People poured out of the bars and their homes and filled the street. traffic stopped as the sidewalks ceased to hold the crowd. Every car, bus, and truck that managed to inch it’s was through the crowd honked their horn as they did. Margie called from her own party and said McCain was speaking. We headed back to the apartment in anticipation of Obama’s speech as the cops tried to clear the street.

I found another party in my own neck of the neighborhood just after friends had retired to rest for work the next day. DeKalb Avenue made the scene at Myrtle look like a toddler’s birthday party. I grabbed my camera and spent the remainder of my evening talking, yelling, and shooting photos with my new friends just a 1/2 block from home. 12 AM, 1 AM, 2AM, each hour the party grew until the block was packed with hundreds of people of all colors. People banged drums, pots and pans, lit fireworks, smoked, and drank into the night. The police made a half hearted effort clear the street with smiles on their faces as they seemingly were blind to violations that would have mattered on any other night. I have never loved Brooklyn and my community more than I realized last night.

Today the world seems new. I woke this morning to screams of “OBAMMMA!” from the kids at the middle school just across the street. It’s as if the lid has come off, a blanket has been removed, a weight has been lifted. I forgot until last night what national pride felt like. Today my friend Ryan said it perfectly, “This is the country I thought it was!” I will finally echo what so many others have said today by saying how proud of my country I am today. I have never felt more pride in calling myself an American.

There is nothing more to do than give gratitude for the course my life has taken and for what I have been given over the last several weeks. There is nothing more crucial than gratitude for continuing a stream of blessings that have shaped my life. For this, I like the simplicity of recognizing the good in front of you. Another friend, Mark, pointed this out this morning with a simple phrase.

“It’s a good day.”

…photos of the evening to come

[UPDATE: - photos up on flickr -]