Six years ago, one of my first posts on this blog was about the feelings of being behind a glass, and seeing the world outside. http://againstabsolutes.com/2006/05/06/glass/

Strange how this enveloping can become something your soul starts needing.

Early mornings at BBH are so addictive. A short trip from home, a quick trot up two floors, push open the glass door and you enter a space of whiteness, filled in every corner with reflected sunlight, glinting off trees swaying in the morning breeze. Automatically, my breathing gets slower, calmer, as I embrace the rituals of routine. Fill my cup with hot water, dip a tea bag from a set that was replenished before I walk in, glance at the headlines on the newspapers neatly placed on the wooden table; open up my aluminium notebook and start writing to people millions of miles away or a shout away and smile into the screen.

The periodic glow of joy from every sip of chai that I made just the way I like it, and then waiting for repeat sessions through the day.