Where I've Been 2012
Ah, 2012.
It was a year of dreams, old and new, it was a time to sit in silent contemplation for ten days, to go deep, to let go, to suddenly feel like breaking free. It was a time to embrace myself, to accept all of it, to succeed and fail at this, to uncover some demons, to realize they were never quite as horrible as I always thought.
It was a birthday present like no other, a phone call made to a friend for support, it was being too scared to make that final click on the laptop and then feeling absolutely relieved once I did, of wondering what I had just done, of knowing only that it was the right choice.
It was a time of turning 39, of pensive reflection, of getting excited for change. It was talking to others about my future and getting caught up in a frenzy of contagious inspiration, of making plans and not really knowing what I was doing or saying or how it would all come together but somehow trusting, always knowing, that it would.
It was saying goodbye to coffee, nine years under the bridge, showered with gifts and love, it was a goodbye party that was more like a karmic circle revealed, it was a new roommate, an uncertain future, a plane ticket to London, a backpack only fit for a week, a countdown to an adventure.
It was 98 days in Europe.
It was a few weeks of the plague, fears rising to the surface, never sure what to do but always trudging on, it was couchsurfing, it was meeting strangers who turned out not to be so strange after all, it was home cooked meals on the road, humbling lessons in kindness and generosity, it was taking better care of myself, adapting, struggling, it was beginning to feel the freedom of letting go, of opening up to everyone, of shedding old patterns, of sitting in the seat of who I really am.
It was the warm sun in Prague, the healing brought by Immune 44 in Austria, the settling into my own glow, it was meeting new faces at every turn, it was a lucky night at the hostel with no roommates, it was a Turkish coffee greeting in Croatia and bonding within minutes in spite of language barriers. It was $12/night to sleep in "luxury", a free walking tour around the city of your choice, it was new friends made and whole days spent sharing, laughing, learning.
It was arriving at Santa Lucia, those first few moments in Venice, of hearing the language and feeling at home, it was riding the vaporettos in awe, eating a pizza in Florence that blew my mind, sipping wine in Tuscany, eating gelato all day every day just because I could, it was riding a crowded Italian train and taking a chance, it was facing my own judgements, it was a smile that made me want to know more.
It was winding up in London for Diamond Jubilee and France for Bastille Day without ever having planned to, it was a familiar face under the Eiffel Tower, it was ten days in the middle of nowhere in France, sitting in meditation, doing dishes, digging gardens, feeling like my life would never ever be the same again. It was wishing I remembered how to speak French still, it was not being understood, it was being known as the American Guy who loves peanut butter, it was a time of having my own room, my own bed at least for a little while, of resting, of refocusing, of slowing down, of doing it my way.
It was Genova, it was the hospitality that redefined hospitality, it was riding through town on the back of a motorbike in giddy disbelief at where my life had taken me, it was pasta alla carbonara, incredible coffee every morning, Italian lessons, English lessons, Life lessons. It was the gelato in bed at 1am that melted my heart, it was the best dinner ever at La Mandragola, it was the Little Prince, eating foccaccia for lunch, swimming in the Mediterranean, it was sitting in Milano airport with a hint of melancholy, it was arriving in a new setting and being excited all over again, but never to forget where I had just been.
It was waking up every morning with the easiest smile ever to cross my lips.
It was friends new and old in Greece, living, laughing, loving. It was Santorini, the inspiration to write and write and write, the sunsets that brought tears, the tan skin, the endless relaxation, the Greek salads, the espresso freddos, the ruins in Athens, the hot sun and dry winds, it was jumping off cliffs both literally and figuratively.
It was traveling alone but never alone, completely trusting the Universe, it was accessing some part of me that continually made my heart skip with joy. It was riding a train through the middle of nowhere and feeling more comfortable in my own skin than ever before, it was an 8-hour ride on a Greek ferry that felt like 8 minutes, it was my tender heart on my sleeve at all times, it was freedom and lightness and wonder and acceptance. It was never fully understanding what was being said, never knowing what day it was, never caring what time it was, and never feeling more at home without a home.
It was arriving back at LAX and feeling like I landed on Mars.
It was the readjustment, the resistance, the struggle, feeling like a stranger in my own bed, it was the uncertainty that suddenly felt unbearable, it was the anxiety and tension of not knowing, of forgetting how to live. It was a shift in perspective that felt like a death, it was being back in my hometown, the place where I grew up and wondering where all the time had gone and whether it was all a dream, it was saying goodbye to loved ones, it was Uncle Sam and Aunt Josephine and a part of my childhood being put to rest, it was the prayer of St. Francis. It was feeling the autumn breezes and surprisingly longing for the four seasons, admiring the colors of the leaves and appreciating the nip in the air, it was accepting that things are always changing, it was fighting against that change, it was fearing that things might never change for the better again.
It was getting back to work, the end of a six month break, it was not wanting to leave my house, not wanting to face the world, being unafraid to take an honest look, the freedom to revisit my decisions, it was putting the green apron back on and accepting that nothing is forever, it was emotions so powerful they almost felt like the truth, it was a moment of clarity that lights up the night, it was tears falling like rain. It was wondering where my spirit went and then remembering that it never went anywhere.
It was taking it all one day at a time, one step at a time, it was closing down for business then finally opening back up again, it was going easy on myself, giving myself some space, it was giving to everyone else, it was sharing as healing. It was the holidays, and the end of one year that seemed more like five. It was traveling around the world only to find that life is simply a matter of the heart and soul, it was wondering what the future might bring but being careful to let it all unravel on its own.
It was all part of the glory of 2012. Another year in the life.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
It was a year of dreams, old and new, it was a time to sit in silent contemplation for ten days, to go deep, to let go, to suddenly feel like breaking free. It was a time to embrace myself, to accept all of it, to succeed and fail at this, to uncover some demons, to realize they were never quite as horrible as I always thought.
It was a birthday present like no other, a phone call made to a friend for support, it was being too scared to make that final click on the laptop and then feeling absolutely relieved once I did, of wondering what I had just done, of knowing only that it was the right choice.
It was a time of turning 39, of pensive reflection, of getting excited for change. It was talking to others about my future and getting caught up in a frenzy of contagious inspiration, of making plans and not really knowing what I was doing or saying or how it would all come together but somehow trusting, always knowing, that it would.
It was saying goodbye to coffee, nine years under the bridge, showered with gifts and love, it was a goodbye party that was more like a karmic circle revealed, it was a new roommate, an uncertain future, a plane ticket to London, a backpack only fit for a week, a countdown to an adventure.
It was 98 days in Europe.
It was a few weeks of the plague, fears rising to the surface, never sure what to do but always trudging on, it was couchsurfing, it was meeting strangers who turned out not to be so strange after all, it was home cooked meals on the road, humbling lessons in kindness and generosity, it was taking better care of myself, adapting, struggling, it was beginning to feel the freedom of letting go, of opening up to everyone, of shedding old patterns, of sitting in the seat of who I really am.
It was the warm sun in Prague, the healing brought by Immune 44 in Austria, the settling into my own glow, it was meeting new faces at every turn, it was a lucky night at the hostel with no roommates, it was a Turkish coffee greeting in Croatia and bonding within minutes in spite of language barriers. It was $12/night to sleep in "luxury", a free walking tour around the city of your choice, it was new friends made and whole days spent sharing, laughing, learning.
It was arriving at Santa Lucia, those first few moments in Venice, of hearing the language and feeling at home, it was riding the vaporettos in awe, eating a pizza in Florence that blew my mind, sipping wine in Tuscany, eating gelato all day every day just because I could, it was riding a crowded Italian train and taking a chance, it was facing my own judgements, it was a smile that made me want to know more.
It was winding up in London for Diamond Jubilee and France for Bastille Day without ever having planned to, it was a familiar face under the Eiffel Tower, it was ten days in the middle of nowhere in France, sitting in meditation, doing dishes, digging gardens, feeling like my life would never ever be the same again. It was wishing I remembered how to speak French still, it was not being understood, it was being known as the American Guy who loves peanut butter, it was a time of having my own room, my own bed at least for a little while, of resting, of refocusing, of slowing down, of doing it my way.
It was Genova, it was the hospitality that redefined hospitality, it was riding through town on the back of a motorbike in giddy disbelief at where my life had taken me, it was pasta alla carbonara, incredible coffee every morning, Italian lessons, English lessons, Life lessons. It was the gelato in bed at 1am that melted my heart, it was the best dinner ever at La Mandragola, it was the Little Prince, eating foccaccia for lunch, swimming in the Mediterranean, it was sitting in Milano airport with a hint of melancholy, it was arriving in a new setting and being excited all over again, but never to forget where I had just been.
It was waking up every morning with the easiest smile ever to cross my lips.
It was friends new and old in Greece, living, laughing, loving. It was Santorini, the inspiration to write and write and write, the sunsets that brought tears, the tan skin, the endless relaxation, the Greek salads, the espresso freddos, the ruins in Athens, the hot sun and dry winds, it was jumping off cliffs both literally and figuratively.
It was traveling alone but never alone, completely trusting the Universe, it was accessing some part of me that continually made my heart skip with joy. It was riding a train through the middle of nowhere and feeling more comfortable in my own skin than ever before, it was an 8-hour ride on a Greek ferry that felt like 8 minutes, it was my tender heart on my sleeve at all times, it was freedom and lightness and wonder and acceptance. It was never fully understanding what was being said, never knowing what day it was, never caring what time it was, and never feeling more at home without a home.
It was arriving back at LAX and feeling like I landed on Mars.
It was the readjustment, the resistance, the struggle, feeling like a stranger in my own bed, it was the uncertainty that suddenly felt unbearable, it was the anxiety and tension of not knowing, of forgetting how to live. It was a shift in perspective that felt like a death, it was being back in my hometown, the place where I grew up and wondering where all the time had gone and whether it was all a dream, it was saying goodbye to loved ones, it was Uncle Sam and Aunt Josephine and a part of my childhood being put to rest, it was the prayer of St. Francis. It was feeling the autumn breezes and surprisingly longing for the four seasons, admiring the colors of the leaves and appreciating the nip in the air, it was accepting that things are always changing, it was fighting against that change, it was fearing that things might never change for the better again.
It was getting back to work, the end of a six month break, it was not wanting to leave my house, not wanting to face the world, being unafraid to take an honest look, the freedom to revisit my decisions, it was putting the green apron back on and accepting that nothing is forever, it was emotions so powerful they almost felt like the truth, it was a moment of clarity that lights up the night, it was tears falling like rain. It was wondering where my spirit went and then remembering that it never went anywhere.
It was taking it all one day at a time, one step at a time, it was closing down for business then finally opening back up again, it was going easy on myself, giving myself some space, it was giving to everyone else, it was sharing as healing. It was the holidays, and the end of one year that seemed more like five. It was traveling around the world only to find that life is simply a matter of the heart and soul, it was wondering what the future might bring but being careful to let it all unravel on its own.
It was all part of the glory of 2012. Another year in the life.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Comments
I have never before read a blog post that brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing your remarkable journey. Whatever comes next is36 going to be great! Happy New Year!