So, here we are. My calendar tells me we’re six weeks in, though I think twenty seems closer to capturing the reality of how full this time has been. I’m sitting before a Richmond sunset (#RichLove #RVACE #VirginiaIsForACErs), sipping rooibos tea out of my favorite purple mug as I write these words—a beautiful evening, no doubt. Today was, as always, a whirlwind; as always, a crash course in adulting; as always, a miracle. This morning, like all others before it, began the same way: a skilled execution of the classic “three snooze n’ roll,” fumbling for glasses from table to ground to face, the quickest bedside reading (one page a morning, try it), and, like clockwork, one singular thought has moved into my mind.