The Art of Connection – February 10th, 2020

Since the last week before leaving Oaxaca, the abundance of stories and adventures that have unraveled have been so immense, that every time there’s a moment to sit and collect these thoughts, something else took precedence. So, instead of laying this all out in a ten-page retelling of everything, these stories are split up in separate posts, which are linked below. So if you’re in the mood to get the inner story, you can dig in a little deeper. 

Readjusting to the US was strange, and there’s some real guilt that’s been building. For one, and this is so real, walking from the hotel in New Orleans to Whole Foods was like an unexpected paradise. Everything was so clean, and all the labels were like old friends. It’s was a perplexing amalgamation of guilt and bliss, and it’s still being processed. 

The more challenging aspect is navigating the Pacific North West without Solo (they’re sitting at a mechanic’s in New Orleans, getting new shocks) not to mention the last few weeks were kind of up in the air. There’s been a relatively straight line of stops since this began back in May, but Oaxaca changed things. Stability for two months softened the fine-tuned edges of the traveler’s voice always whispering, “you need to find shelter for the next week.” 

I haven’t really known where I was going to stay from night to night. Even this week was sort of up in the air until a couple of hours ago. And this is a strange feeling, which might seem off from someone who’s been living on the road, but eventually, the empty slots on the calendar filled, and beds and couches were reserved.

It took only a couple of days for the cost of living in the US to come crashing in. Thank you to all the affordable Airbnbs and friends which became temp homes after stepping off the plane in Austin. Riding from Austin to New Orleans in fifty-five degrees weather also sealed the deal for the next step in this lifestyle: VAN LIFE. 

Airbnb has been so necessary, as camping was just not an option with the weather. Moving slowly, only taking a couple of hundred miles at a stint, there were several amazing places along the way, each one unique and magical in its own fashion. 

The first, in Cypress, Texas, was set in a ticky-tack neighborhood, with fountains flooded with ducks around every corner, looking as if the cast from Weeds decided to reincarnate their space in some unknown town. Still, the host was so delightful, it felt like coming home.  Being able to connect and share stories with this lovely human created a new friendship. 

The next stop was Layfette, Lousiana, and this quaint town is likely fun, though only a night was spent. The Airbnb itself was a much-needed blend of eclectic bliss, with a happy hour that night, live Cajon music, and a rich breakfast of grit, eggs, biscuits and gravy, and apples with cinnamon delivered to my door. The chickens frolicking around the yard was delightful.

Then a hot tub at a home that was void of the host in New Orleans was ideal, as a couple days of solitude was needed to prep for the intense social days to follow.

Coming back to Portland Oregan was stepping inside comfort, with familiar smiling faces, hugs, and a love that only friends who have become family can provide. It was much-needed warmth in the fridged air that is the Pacific Moist West.

Not to mention this amazing puppy.

Stepping back a bit, before departing from Oaxaca, an unexpected deep look into the medical system of Oaxaca was provided, and an intense emotion favor was asked on the same day. It made the last meal overlooking the city one of extreme contemplation and solidified the love for this state completely. 

With all this instability, a near-death experience, a horrific immigration story, a quiet weekend in the woods with a love was so desperately needed.

And yet, even that shifted so dramatically shortly after arriving at the luxurious yurt. Moments after dinner was consumed, a storm blew through, dislodging three trees, and chaos consumed the romantic getaway.

Days later, now, sitting at a fellow Goddardite’s home, who’s graduating this semester, there’s a sense of calm setting in from the extreme randomness of the last month.

Though listening to the news, and watching the primaries unfold, feels so disconnected from life; it sounds like static. Being able to relax, play chess,

and also hang with this puppy

has been perfect.

This last month makes one realize how quickly things can change from one moment to the next, just from conversations, taking in a new location, or the chaotic hand of mother nature. And in the end, connecting to others is what matters. It’s the thing that carries everyone through; people’s ability to be there for one another, as best they can.