I’m not who I was when I started traveling fifteen years ago. I’m not who I was when I lived in a van three years ago. I’m not who I was before the pandemic started. It’s a process, it’s a change, and it’s a chance.
The branches pull free from their twists and whip me in the face and we curse loudly at the bushiest of the vines
But this is his battle, this is his war. This is his generation.
You are allowed to hate the fifty first dates and only three second ones.
I loved Denver – she was just my type. In appearances, the mountains glistened, the city sprawled, the old became new. In personality, there were a thousand places to go, … Continue reading Life out of season
Like I told them, I’m really good at being single.
You’re beautiful. He’ll tell you that.
But always remember – you’re worth it, too.
A friend recently told me that they only ask questions if it pertains to who a person is right now.
“I want to know who you are, not who you were.”
Not going to lie, my brow furrowed.
I see a strong vein of truth that I agree with, but almost equally powerfully disagree.
I am who I am because of who I was.
A conversation here, a crazy night there, a struggle, a triumph, a journey, a moment.
To only want to know a person in this present moment is to lose the rich tapestry of being alive.
The past gives depth. The future gives growth. The present moment is only a snapshot. I would not be who I am if it were not for the experiences that led me to this moment. I am on a trajectory for tomorrow because of where I am today.
You are always told to live in the present: YOLO, carpe diem, all that.
The present is a beautiful thing. Time is a beautiful thing. But to only know one part, be it any part of their timeline, is to miss the true beauty.
This present moment is a kaleidoscope of memories and dreams, taking a deep breath to appreciate a thousand coincidences and questions that drove you to right here.
This present moment is full of opinions and beliefs that are wildly different from the past – but why? When I meet someone, I don’t just want to know that you agree with me, I want to know why. What led you to be the person you are today?
There’s a story.
A beginning, a middle, and an end.
I want to know you, who you are today. But I want to know where you’ve been and where you are going. I want to know why you justify some things, why you forgive others, what causes triggers and emotions to flare. I want to know what makes you you.
Those answers rarely are found in the present moment.
They grow, they develop, they change.
If I want to know you, I want to know why.
I want you to be genuine.
I want the intimacy that comes with revealing.
I want to share in your joy and laughter, your heartache and pain.
I want to know the past, dream of the future, and have it all come back to this present moment.
Online dating allows you to meet people outside of your usual social circle. I was curious about the apps that had developed since the last time I was single, so … Continue reading please, don’t try to impress me
“I’m not trying to hit on you or convert you,” the rabbi assured us as he amiably gathered up his things. “Are you from around here?”
Mel grinned, her curly blond hair flouncing as she turned her hair to look at the gentleman who had been sitting at the next table over. “I am.” He glanced at me, then. “I’m from out of town.”
“Nice to meet you,” he responded. “I’m the rabbi at the synagogue right around the corner and my wife and I just came for a coffee. I just wanted to say hello!”
Nodding his head in a final farewell, we watched him disappear out of Zanzibar.
For half a beat, we tried to return to our conversation that had been interrupted.
“Nope,” I said. “Gotta talk about that.”
“I love everything that just happened there,” Mel agreed. “Absolutely everything about that.”
That’s one of the best things about travel, I’d say: simply the people you meet along the way.
In seventy-six hours, I traveled an absurd 1274 miles visiting with friends that I have known ranging from six months to seven years. I once couch surfed through the formal website, but this was my favorite style. A futon one night, a wooden floor the next, a proper couch the next. The temperature soared from the 60s to nearly 100, and my mind was happily engaged in audiobooks about science and history.
Three days, four states. Friends who love languages, friends who love nature, friends who love aviation, friends who love Des Moines, friends who love wanderlust. People with souls that are larger than life.
We sat outside new restaurants and watched the sun go down. We watched meteor showers from untouched observation decks and plotted the (un)likelihood of a tornado that day. We drank coffee. I chuckled at my Polish friend’s disgust at Americans’ use of ice in their drinks. I successfully navigated Kansas City, but hit a snag in Des Moines less than a mile from where I’d spent a summer (it’s okay, I forgive your directions!). We laughed, we were serious, we learned from each other and of each other.
It was a whirlwind, and even though I am utterly exhausted (and will not try to do such a long trip by myself in such a short time frame again), it was worth it. It makes me feel so alive.
travel always does.