By Sara Mitchell

I remember when I first woke up. Freshman year of college, in the middle of a night with wild and very cold air - a Honduran, a guitarist, and I had just watched a film. We shared one bottle of wine that I had no idea how to gauge the quality of and tore off cheese and bread with our hands. Others joined us and with the night so young and promising, they began to read poetry to each other.
I have no idea which poets were read but experiencing this shook me. The knowledge that they spent their nights exciting the life out of each other was new and thrilling. That night gave my life a layer of meaning it had lacked. It unfolded a new way to enjoy life with people - to be in communion with those who have gone before and in the same moment to uncover the new. Afterward, I could think of nothing better to do with an evening with friends than re ...