Home, Home on the Road

Last year on September 2nd, we flew from Phoenix to Buenos Aires. We were newly nomads.

This September 2nd, we fly from New York to Bangkok. We’re a little more seasoned and a lot more sun-tanned this time around.

All year long, people have told us we’re brave. I don’t feel particularly brave.

I don’t feel brave because I don’t actually fear travel.

I don’t feel brave because I’ve never feared the unknown.

I don’t feel brave because I don’t fear living with less.

Or maybe people say we’re brave because pursuing your dreams is brave since we seem to have this dread that our dreams will/can/might/definitely fail.

And then we’ll be really fucked up and unable to ever handle reality again.

Don’t worry so much. That’s not how it works.

You only fail if you don’t risk.

As soon as you step out in full faith of your truth, you realize- it is way easier to go with the flow of your soul than all that effort you were exerting to resist it.

It became a much, much, MUCH scarier thing to not pursue my heart’s calling than to drop everything else I was doing and go for it.

Actually, doing what you love is the easiest thing.

It might take effort, and have scary moments, but they are moments you choose for you. So it feels better. At least you’re on track with you.

We’ve lived more richly, resolutely and even, responsibly, in our year as nomads than I can expound upon.

It’s the age old paradox that we all know intuitively, but cannot grasp in the heart until we experience it.

The truth that: We don’t need things to be happy. We don’t need to fit into a defined system to survive. We don’t need to stay on track (i.e college, marriage, mortgage, babies, 401K, promotions, etc) to find order and attain a smooth, happy life.

Or, to be safe, so to say. Those things are fine, but they do not protect you from chaos or disorder or tragedy. We like to think they might.

I like to think that God provides abundantly. All the time. If we show up and live in trusting abandon and believe in the goodness of our hopes. The universe cannot provide for you if your hands are not open to receive.

The more we cling to our things (our fears!), the less room we have in our palms (our heart!) to receive the abundance that is available.

I may wear the same couple of outfits until they’re thin and ragged, but I feel like a Queen.

And not because we’ve dined like royalty, or lived like kings. We’ve eaten cockroaches by accident, had them crawl up our legs, slept with bedbugs, gotten food poisoning from chorizo, kinked our necks on weird beds, had healthy food to eat and only preservative packed options, been lost, wet, homeless and uncertain…

But we’ve also had our breath taken away by blaze orange sunsets in the desert, the wings of flamingoes flapping over salt flats, colorful labyrinths of cities, tremendous street art, walking barefoot through fairy tale forests and sleeping in medieval-like refugios under glaciers, dancing to chilean music, plucking Malbec grapes in Mendoza, lazing in hammocks, and so many other deeply satisfying experiences that let us attune to nature and to a rhythm of life we value.

All at a slow pace. All in between lots of days of working, laundrying, cooking, grocery shopping, and all the normal things we all have to do no matter where we are.

But they are all joyous to us because we are together and we are on the road.

Like Paul the Apostle said, “I’ve learned to be content whatever the circumstances.”

In that regard, you cannot buy the contenment we have. You would not trade it for the world.

We are rich in love and adventure. Life is robust and full and glorious. And we stopped cluttering our minds and spaces, so we could not only see that more clearly, but feel it more fully.

We are. We are. We are…completely at home in this life we have created for ourselves. A life that works for us. When it doesn’t work anymore, we’ll change it.

“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.” Rumi

Do everything from your soul. Joy is not something you seek and hope to one day find. It is something that lives within you all the time.

We suppress the joy that lives naturally in us with our worries, fears, and need to “get our ducks in a row.”

Let that shit go.

Did you know you can let it go and still get laundry done? It’s true.

Just: Simplify. Simplify. Simplify.

So here we go again! Halfway around the world on a one-way ticket, but everything is a one-way ticket for us now.

There is no return or returning. There is only onward.

There is no coming back to an old life or other way. We aren’t just on a jaunt around the world to get something out of our system or to cure our wanderlust or to feel like we’ve really lived.

No. We’re nurturing our souls. We’re giving our joy free-range!

We’re living out here people! We’re just living. Traveling just happens to be synonymous with living for me now.

After three months visiting family and friends in the U.S, we found ourselves whispering with a smile, “I can’t wait to go home!”

But, many would say we were home this entire time. And, well…we were. If home is every where we are, we were at home.

We were at home in the States, but not simply because it was the U.S and we’re Americans and we came back. Does that make sense? We were home because that’s where we were.

We are old.

We are young.

We are we
where we are
when we own that our home
is a heart
not a lawn.
a.r. 2015

We truly feel like jetting off again, on our own, is home. It is the coziest and most personal thing to us. It is where we feel most natural, comfortable, content and happy.

We are going home. We’ve been visiting for awhile under other peoples’ roofs and enjoying their kind hospitality.

Now, we’re getting back to that open road…

Hogar dulce hogar. Home sweet home.

Next year, I’ll be able to say that in Thai too.

 

 

 

When We Were Us

When you were the only boy,
and I the only girl,
I remember how you looked at me
from upstream
finding your way down slippery rocks.
I squatted on one and watched a spider glide across a mirrored bowl
of water,
but really
he was on a web
I couldn’t see.
Just like I couldn’t see
your eyes
without the look of love.
Tell me, do you love me?
We couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t dare.
Bite my tongue
or he’ll run.
But seriously.
When you were my best friend,
and I your favorite pal,
I remember catching a dead fish
and stroking his belly.
Sushi tonight! We giggled.
You set him free to bob.
Bob, that should have been his name.
What was his name?
Gary.
You’re funny.
When you were Oberon,
and I a wood nymph,
I remember offering you a dandelion.
Make a wish!
“I wish for nothing!”
Then that is what you’ll get.
Silly me, I blew off all the cottony heads and forgot
my wishes
but I do so love to watch the seeds
fly to the forest floor.
Just like I love to watch your eyes
change color
in the sunlight and the shade.
We were made
for this.
This bliss.
When you were everyman,
and I was manifest beauty,
you told me
Thanks for being awesome!
But what you really wanted to say
was
I love you.
So you made me dinner instead.
And I sat in the dirt like the child that I was
banging my stick on the rocks
wondering how it could be
that you loved me.
Because I knew.
I knew.
When you were campfire guy,
and I was flannel girl,
you played my harmonica
like a sexy blues traveler.
Damn son.
You’re too good to be true. I wanna make out with you.
All day long, in the sun.
This sun
that won’t stop shining
on us.
Your puffy vest
and my skinny jeans,
is this 1963?
I think I’ve seen
you before.
In a dream, or on a train,
or way back when
when we were young
in those good ‘ol days
they talk about.
All the joy of yesteryears was ours that afternoon.
And you were the quintessential boy and I the quintessential girl
for a day
that stands carved forever
on my memory.
And after all was said and done,
you still let me
lay my head down
in your lap
to watch the night sky unfold,
and you saw the stars in my eyes
and wondered
if they were for you
or just a reflection
of my own eternal soul.
So you touched your nose to mine
and put your tongue in my mouth,
and you didn’t have to speak the words
that rose to the tip
because I could taste
your love
for me.
And honestly,
who says such things
but a woman falling slowly and madly
further down this rabbit hole?

Weightless

It’s curious
the weight of a thought
and the shape it takes
as it spins and spins
about the mind.
Curiouser still
the weight of a soul
and the shape it forms
as it molds itself
to fit the world.
But soul is born from wings,
and weightless it should be,
and thoughts then simply these
– the breeze
which carry us toward dreams.
| ar 2015 |