Hotel Floor — Chicago

I was there for a two-day conference. The room was a standard business hotel box — blackout curtains, HVAC hum, a desk with a chair nobody uses.

I’d brought my practice with me out of habit. 5am, before the day collapsed into meetings. I sat on the floor between the bed and the window because that was the only space. The carpet was a pattern I tried not to look at.

Twenty minutes. The city was already making noise below. I couldn’t see it but I could feel it — that particular city morning energy that comes through the walls whether you want it or not.

I’ve sat in a lot of hotel rooms since. This one stuck because it taught me the practice doesn’t require the setup. The spot is wherever you are.