12.19
12.19
It's already day six of our trip back to Sacramento. I've been meaning to write, but my head hasn't been totally in the game for the past week. I've been groggy and my head hurts and everything feels tired. I'm not sure if it's possible, but Rohan has mono and I'm a little bit afraid I have it again for the third time. Then again, maybe I'm just paranoid and hit my head too hard on the bunk bed the other day. Who's to say. Anyway, I'm getting back to my normal self slowly and it feels good.
So far, we've stayed in Mobile AL, Vicksburg MS, Abilene TX, El Paso TX, and Phoenix AZ. I've memorized the breakfast selection of the Holiday Inn chain and have made a hobby out of comparing the biscuit deliciousness at each location. Sleeping on beds again has exceeded all of my wildest dreams, who would've thought something so simple would bring me tremendous peace and comfort. I became so used to sleeping on tiny cots I forgot how nice mattresses were. Hot showers, too. The first hot shower I took in Mobile was a purely euphoric experience, even after only a few weeks of cold, occasionally lukewarm water if it was a lucky day. My favorite thing about the hotels, though, has been the Christmas trees in the lobby. I keep forgetting this holiday, the centerpiece of my childhood, is right around the corner. Something about the lights and the music and decorations brings me a deep sense of warmth, being the big cheeseball that I am.
We've been eating out every night on the government' dollar and it's amazing. We went to a fantastic Mexican restaurant in El Paso the other day, which is right on the border of Mexico. I had been charmed by El Paso as a city already and the food solidified this for me. Earlier in the day, we had walked around and gone to the museum of El Paso history. I love museums and the ability they have to make history come alive. I could've stood there all day, staring at artifacts of the past and thinking about all we leave behind.
Yesterday we drove through the desert and it started raining! I felt like I was witnessing a little miracle, a promise of life in an infamously lifeless landscape. The landscape is really beautiful. It's characterized by rusty orange mountains, golden sand, and picturesque cacti among bushels of brown plants. This morning I watched the sunrise above the mountains from the van window and it was breathtaking.
I know I'm going to look back at this time of my life with joy down the line. I'm going to remember my adventure days, traveling across the country without any worries in the world, learning to tear down my boundaries with other people and my self-created limitations in this world. I feel like I can go anywhere. I want to go everywhere. I never thought I'd be someone who was "brave" enough to see the world, it always seemed so impractical. Go to school, establish a successful career, make money, settle down. This was the routine I was prepared for, yet this never felt right to me. There was something missing for me in this grand old plan, and I don't think I'll ever be content with this plan until I let this other part of me grow and flourish, a part of me I didn't know I had. This part of me wants to go everywhere and see what the world has to offer. It wants to soak up a sunset in the middle of one nowhere and wake up to the sunrise in the middle of another. It wants to explore the stress free version of my mind, the best version of myself I have yet to find. It wants to remove the identity I have created for myself and lived by for so long and start new every single day. There is so much more I need to learn before I decide who I am supposed to be. Allowing myself this time is totally liberating.
I'm realizing a lot of the things I worried about and cared so much about are a bunch of BS. Things go the way they go, and that's all there is. Trying to control things is a futile effort that often results in pain. Letting go of control is incredible and often freeing. I don't think I give a hoot about being society's idea of "successful." To me, success is loving and being loved. Yesterday, I looked around at the end of my day in Phoenix, AZ while sitting at a pizza place laughing with my friends. I felt this incredible sense of peace and belonging. The kindness we give each other and receive for each other in the simplest forms is one of the most touching experiences I've ever been a part of. To me, in that moment at the pizza place, realizing this constant exchange of love and kindness that the world needs a lot more of, I felt a far greater sense of success than I could achieve by an A on an exam. All of the grades I've ever received in my life could melt away at this point and it wouldn't matter, because that stuff isn't real. People are. Other people are the heart of our being. And one day when we die they won't remember how much money we made or if we were really good at sports or if we got an A in chemistry. They will remember how we made them feel, they will remember if we were there for them. I want to spend my life being a positive part of other people's lives.
It's already day six of our trip back to Sacramento. I've been meaning to write, but my head hasn't been totally in the game for the past week. I've been groggy and my head hurts and everything feels tired. I'm not sure if it's possible, but Rohan has mono and I'm a little bit afraid I have it again for the third time. Then again, maybe I'm just paranoid and hit my head too hard on the bunk bed the other day. Who's to say. Anyway, I'm getting back to my normal self slowly and it feels good.
So far, we've stayed in Mobile AL, Vicksburg MS, Abilene TX, El Paso TX, and Phoenix AZ. I've memorized the breakfast selection of the Holiday Inn chain and have made a hobby out of comparing the biscuit deliciousness at each location. Sleeping on beds again has exceeded all of my wildest dreams, who would've thought something so simple would bring me tremendous peace and comfort. I became so used to sleeping on tiny cots I forgot how nice mattresses were. Hot showers, too. The first hot shower I took in Mobile was a purely euphoric experience, even after only a few weeks of cold, occasionally lukewarm water if it was a lucky day. My favorite thing about the hotels, though, has been the Christmas trees in the lobby. I keep forgetting this holiday, the centerpiece of my childhood, is right around the corner. Something about the lights and the music and decorations brings me a deep sense of warmth, being the big cheeseball that I am.
We've been eating out every night on the government' dollar and it's amazing. We went to a fantastic Mexican restaurant in El Paso the other day, which is right on the border of Mexico. I had been charmed by El Paso as a city already and the food solidified this for me. Earlier in the day, we had walked around and gone to the museum of El Paso history. I love museums and the ability they have to make history come alive. I could've stood there all day, staring at artifacts of the past and thinking about all we leave behind.
Yesterday we drove through the desert and it started raining! I felt like I was witnessing a little miracle, a promise of life in an infamously lifeless landscape. The landscape is really beautiful. It's characterized by rusty orange mountains, golden sand, and picturesque cacti among bushels of brown plants. This morning I watched the sunrise above the mountains from the van window and it was breathtaking.
I know I'm going to look back at this time of my life with joy down the line. I'm going to remember my adventure days, traveling across the country without any worries in the world, learning to tear down my boundaries with other people and my self-created limitations in this world. I feel like I can go anywhere. I want to go everywhere. I never thought I'd be someone who was "brave" enough to see the world, it always seemed so impractical. Go to school, establish a successful career, make money, settle down. This was the routine I was prepared for, yet this never felt right to me. There was something missing for me in this grand old plan, and I don't think I'll ever be content with this plan until I let this other part of me grow and flourish, a part of me I didn't know I had. This part of me wants to go everywhere and see what the world has to offer. It wants to soak up a sunset in the middle of one nowhere and wake up to the sunrise in the middle of another. It wants to explore the stress free version of my mind, the best version of myself I have yet to find. It wants to remove the identity I have created for myself and lived by for so long and start new every single day. There is so much more I need to learn before I decide who I am supposed to be. Allowing myself this time is totally liberating.
I'm realizing a lot of the things I worried about and cared so much about are a bunch of BS. Things go the way they go, and that's all there is. Trying to control things is a futile effort that often results in pain. Letting go of control is incredible and often freeing. I don't think I give a hoot about being society's idea of "successful." To me, success is loving and being loved. Yesterday, I looked around at the end of my day in Phoenix, AZ while sitting at a pizza place laughing with my friends. I felt this incredible sense of peace and belonging. The kindness we give each other and receive for each other in the simplest forms is one of the most touching experiences I've ever been a part of. To me, in that moment at the pizza place, realizing this constant exchange of love and kindness that the world needs a lot more of, I felt a far greater sense of success than I could achieve by an A on an exam. All of the grades I've ever received in my life could melt away at this point and it wouldn't matter, because that stuff isn't real. People are. Other people are the heart of our being. And one day when we die they won't remember how much money we made or if we were really good at sports or if we got an A in chemistry. They will remember how we made them feel, they will remember if we were there for them. I want to spend my life being a positive part of other people's lives.
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