So it’s been a few days on the road. 1,200 miles already, a 10th of the trip in miles. Arriving in Durham a few hours late of course, because who in their right mind would think I can get anywhere on time? This part of the trip is highlighted by two things: my stay in Durham with Marc, Cus, and Eva, and my day with Jodi and Kiro in Miami. “Living simple. Living free.” If there were a headline to write, that would be it. Because in both cases, that is the underlying message I found.
The materialistic world we live in ties us down. For the wants of our life—the objects of our desire—we’re willing to go to great lengths: We are willing to give up our freedom, to give up our time (the most precious thing we have), to give up our soul. We end up conforming to society’s rules. We have false idols that give us our standards—false idols on TV, false idols on the street, in our neighborhood. We end up worshiping money and doing everything we can to get it. We emulate the goals of the people we see around us, and in doing so we pay no attention to what is truly important.
So where to start? We can, on the one hand, try to surround ourselves with like-minded people. But who are they? Where do you find those people, how do you find them? First you need to search inside. Because without knowing who you are, you will never know who your peers would be. And this has been a theme for me, for my life. Whenever I need an answer, I usually find it within. Searching and following your heart is the best advice I can give. You need to understand your emotions. Without understanding what you feel first, you will not know what the answers are. I think maybe that is part of the problem and part of the solution—teach ethics in school, teach how to understand emotions in school, teach people how to feel, and they will do good. Someone might ask: How about those people who are bad, who are racist? Well, they have the same influence over someone who doesn’t know themselves and will take advantage of that. I believe that ultimately you are not born good or bad. Therefore, if you search within yourself you will learn only good. It is others that teach us to be evil.
My first leg of my trip took me past Mount Holly. Oh my… the memories that stirred within me. On a cold January day, 3 and a half years ago, we took a drive through New Jersey to southern Pennsylvania, right on the border with Delaware. That day we finally got to meet a little fluffy thing that was then called Bambi. As we were driving, Danielle suggested that we should pick a name we see on a sign on the way there. And soon thereafter we passed the exit sign for Mount Holly. Hence—Holly is now the loving springer spaniel that is licking my toes as I write this.
We took this ball of fur home and then had the craziest snow in New York—2-3 feet of snow. She was so small I had to dig pathways in our yard to let her out. I laid down a track for her to run around, and once in a while, she’d take a dive into the deep snow on either side and be buried completely in the snow. Fun times! The dog has been my therapist, my companion, my medicine, my reason to go home over the past year when all I wanted to do was run somewhere far way. I can’t say enough about what a dog will do to someone’s state of mind. A wagging tail is the best antidepressant ever. And as I think of the first time we met her, I also think of all the adventures that followed—the road trips that we committed to taking at least once a year prior to getting her so that we would have one vacation with her, and then we’d do another one just for us. And all these memories are good. All these memories are what I cherish. They are what I remember. Not the time wasted at work, not the arguments, not anything negative. I keep with me a memory of all the good times.
Anyway, back to my trip: I was anxious as I arrived at my first destination. I grew up with road trips as my vacations. I grew up with staying in complete stranger’s homes. But that was my dad’s doing, and I was just the plus one. He had a way about him of just coming up with a plan at the last moment, of improvising. Lots of sketchy plans, but they almost always worked out. And when they didn’t they just became part of the adventure. Now here I am, following in his footsteps, falling back on that obscure part of my memory where this must reside.
But years of living here, of adhering to this “normal,” have changed who I am. I am finding it hard. I had not seen Marc in 10 years or more. So what awaits? I am weary. I am late, and that adds to my anxiety. Will we get to hang out, or do they go to sleep at 10? Will we be able to connect? Will we have things to talk about?
But all these worries dissipate as I walk into their home. It is what I had hoped: a home, untamed, wild, full of memories and art, full of books and ideas, full of charm and secret corners. Character. History. Personality. Yes, it is a home, an object, but it is also a living entity. One that has grown with its owners, one that welcomes anyone walking through its door.
Hugs, kisses, and formalities go quickly, and Eva is in love with Holly. Her joy is contagious. We have a bite to eat—they waited for me. The whiskey starts pouring. We reminisce, and time flies. Marc is someone I look up to. He has done what I only hope to do. He has found his passion, quit his job in New York, and followed his dream to Durham where he was able to attend school and ultimately get a job. A lot was said about this, but clearly I’ve learned nothing is easy, even if it is what you love. Hurdles at every step, but I guess if there is passion then you face them and get past them easier, but that is a reflection on the self, not on the problem. The problem is the same, the perception of it is different. Reflecting on this now, it leads me back to saying that all our problems come from inside. A theme and discussion that I also had on my next stop.
And we move on. Me and Holly. But I am left with a great memory and lots of love. Eva told Holly she will miss her after only one night. Sigh. Cus gave me a private tour of Durham in, it seems, under an hour. Marc took a picture of a Blades sticker on my car. This is our connection. We met while working at Blades those many moons ago. Small memories to keep with us as we move on in our lives. I hope our paths will cross again.
A long drive awaits. My plan is to make it to St. Augustine today. Eight hours. But as I arrive there in the dark, I realize my plan is not going to work. I was going to camp, but the campsite is really an RV camp. The tent sites are tiny against a perimeter wall flanked by monstrous machines that I don’t quite enjoy. It’s windy and cold, and a misty rain has suddenly turned into real rain. Time to move on. Thankfully they cancel my reservation without an argument and refund my fee. It’s dark, and so all there is to do is try to get as close to Miami as I can without passing out at the wheel. I drive another 2 hours or so and search for a motel. I find a Motel 6 that has dog-friendly rooms available. We stay there. A bit funky even for me. But clean. I open a bottle of wine and pour a glass, take out the laptop thinking I will write something, but I end up passing out as soon as I take my first sip. A good thing since I need to wake up at 6 to get to Miami by 10.
There’s a lot of fog as I start driving. Knowing that I will go into a yoga class as soon as I get there, I put on my meditation playlist. This, coupled with the fog, makes for a very mystical drive. We go between palm trees and tree groves, and in my mind I am taken to imaginary places that are only that—my imagination filling in the blank canvas that the fog has left for me to paint. I make it there by 9:45, which gives me enough time to find my friend and drop the dog off as we head to an amazing yoga class. I feel free. I feel that there is enough distance now between me and home, between me and the past, that all that matters now is the present. I am here. Someone asked me why did I come. My answer is simple – Jodi. Here I stop. I stop because to write about this chapter can only be done after it’s over, and I am still here.
