All seeds on the planet are quietly starting to shine. Ready to stretch, open and grow.” —Yoko Ono I thought Dana would notice a change in me immediately. I felt the change in myself, even on the way home from what I learned is called Yoni’s Rite of Spring. I left the house on Herkimer after midnight, but instead of being afraid of getting jumped in what I knew to be a dodgy neighborhood, I smiled at every person I passed. They all smiled back, except for the one woman who said, “Back off, faggot.” I just bowed to her wordlessly and went on my way. Before I got on the subway, I had a fantasy that my apartment had transformed into some verdant forest while I was gone, and Dana into some sort of welcoming wood nymph. But my trip on the C snapped me back into my reality, and by the time I got back home, the old plaid Barcalounger and Dana asleep, mouth ajar, in our bed looked shabbier and more dispiriting than ever. I almost turned and walked back out the door right then. But seeing Dana asleep and vulnerable made me pause.
