I had to make a judgement call. My first idea was to head west to California and then back east – this plan formulated over my quiet weeks on the Western Slope of Colorado. I knew I was winding down and beginning to want to plant myself somewhere I could call my own. I also wanted closure and to feel like I had “done” whatever I had set out to do, even though I had deliberately kept my plans and aspirations for this thing pretty vague.
I’ve been learning a good bit about myself; about others, too. I think I’ve developed greater empathy for humans because I’ve realized that even at our best we are often very fragile creatures. On this trip I’ve seen “good” people do less than savory things, and I’ve seen people who ignore social conventions and society’s norms end up being remarkably stand-up people. And of course I’ve seen wonderful people doing wonderful things. I think I’m naturally more guarded than I was – more reserved, and I think it’s a good thing because even before I left on this journey I felt pretty betrayed by how fickle and misguided some folks can be – how rumors can be cemented as fact if it makes a good enough story. (And of course this experience makes me value my true friends all the more). But before my divorce I believed that trying to be a good human and living with as much integrity as I could muster, mattered. I then went through the nihilist stage of thumbing my nose and turning my back on any who would doubt me. And then I got into the car and drove. I feel like a good bit of my anger has abated and though I’m not as quick to let people past my defenses I genuinely understand that we’re all just plugging along – little humans who sometimes band together as sheep, sometimes as wolves, and sometimes (albeit rarely) as angels.
Having integrity absolutely does matter but not for the reasons I originally thought. It matters to me, for me – not to get the most signatures in a yearbook. It isn’t my purpose in this life to do things to prove anything to anyone, no matter how much I love them. And it doesn’t mean than I’m anywhere near perfect and incapable of fucking up. But none of it matters. I do not exist to provide entertainment for others. But more than that I can’t really live for even those I hold near and dear to my heart. This life is for me. And in doing what some may see as a very self-involved thing by hitting the road and rolling, I see myself as a better and deeper person for it. And it saved my life.
I feel as if I’ve lived many individual lifetimes while out here on the road, and I won’t really be able to process it all until I finally slow down. But I do know that this has instilled in me a much richer and more profound gratitude for life, the whole shebang – the good, the bad and the ugly.
So I listened to my gut (the one part of my body that has never steered me wrong) and I headed southeast instead. I am an incredibly lucky person. I am incredibly lucky because I try very hard to never take my luck for granted. So when I came back to Denver and started the car to find transmission fluid all over the driveway and then a three hundred dollar repair I knew I was done. I had lost faith that my car could get me to California and that I could emotionally and financially handle any further setbacks. I was ready to experience the familiar again. I said goodbye to my Colorado friends and I cried for leaving them almost as much as I cried for leaving Colorado, but I had to believe that this was a warrior’s retreat instead of throwing in the towel.
I camped in Lubbock and then near Shreveport – and it was in eastern Texas that I felt the climate change and could feel that coat of soupy south wash over me. The best part was that I was so happy to feel it – it surprised me by how good it felt. I kept going and made my way toward my friends Aaron and Terran in Stone Mountain, Georgia. They were the perfect choice for my first stop back in “Kansas”. We know each other and trust each other, but we also have had so much to learn about one another. They made a choice to completely uproot and move from Orlando, and the Universe has greatly rewarded them for the decision. Their home is my version of a dream home, their dogs Trigger and Gidget are better than any television show, and it turns out that Aaron is a ridiculously awesome cook!
Terran is incredible; she’s smart, talented, grounded and fun. And now that we’ve gotten the chance to speak outside a smoky bar while a band’s playing we see how much we have in common, too.
Without any real home yet and while still roaming (though now in the South) I didn’t know how it would feel to be back or know in what ways I had changed. But now in my interactions with old friends I’m noticing little changes and also some pretty big ones. It’s kind of fascinating on those occasions when I’m able to stand outside of it all and just observe.
More to come…
Lubbock, Texas
Been too long!
Happy.
