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countless paths opened
before me on the playa where Cary and I separated
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“Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline.”
But I can’t say it was easy. The six months between separation and returning to Asia was an amazing period of transition. I could do anything (and had to do something), but avoiding tough decisions was a skill I had practiced to a point of mastery. It surprised me when the independent decisions came easily (some seemingly magically). After taking an apartment on a Saturday, I visited another on Sunday solely because the woman seemed too kind to just blow off. After a nice meeting in which I explained my situation there was a message on my phone effectively voiding the first opportunity. Having never left the driveway, I walked back, knocked on the door and had a new housemate. When I eventually did get back in the car and start driving, the phone rang again. This time it was a woman who wanted to buy the Burning Man ticket I had posted on the web. That s not so strange except that I just
happened to be approaching her offramp when she called. Though
also just a coincidence, the real significance came from the fact
that I chose NOT to go to Burning Man (abandoning a 4-year streak
of attendance and 6 intensive months of work on a group art project).
I was building my own life. Making decisions was the easy part.
“Sometimes everybody hurts & Take comfort in your friends”
The hard parts came in both general terms (processing the multitude
of thoughts, feelings and emotions) and in more specific doses
(just being lonely). In both cases, I was amazed and inexpressibly
grateful for the support of my friends. I would seldom know who
it was going to be (or if I had even met them yet) but when I
really needed someone to talk with, someone to hang out with or
even somewhere to live, friends were always there. It is in this
measure that I consider myself a rich man (no matter what my bank
statement tells me).
"I couldn’t taste it I’m tired and naked I don’t know what I’m hungry for I don’t know what I want anymore"
And there was confusion. By throwing open my social circle (with an undeniably selective aim toward the opposite sex) and just seeing who showed up, my life was subjected to a variety of twists and turns. I found that I was attracted to other people who were going through dramatic change, challenge or personal growth. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I knew (at least on an intellectual level) that it wasn’t a serious relationship (and was less than half-joking when I said I would recommended AGAINST anyone I cared about "dating" me at that time). What I found instead was the basic art of caring. I became very close to people whom showed they cared about me, but more importantly were open and trusting enough to let me care about them. This provided both a needed affirmation that I was someone with something valuable to give and (in a roundabout way) a validation of my need to dust off my pack and travel again (another decision that came rather easily).
I realized that in some instances, I became too attached to the
caring and used it as an escape from working through my own issues.
Similarly, it was also too easy for me to "do" things to keep
myself from being alone or lonely. Thankfully, many of my chosen
escapes (yoga, gym, nature) were relatively healthy. Others (such
as a few crazy nights out) were less healthy, but still an important
part of the healing. Still others were just amazing. I saw mountain
lion as I watched the sunset at a yoga retreat. A huge buck greeted
me out of a moring meditation by galloping accross my personal
panorama. A giant blue heron blessed me as I entered a stretch
of rapids I was completely underqualified to be kayaking through.
That all happened the weekend I didn't go to Burning Man. Amazing
seemed to occur in bunches.
Weeks later I cancelled plans to go back for another yoga retreat
and left myself with absolutely nothing to do for a whole weekend.
Maybe I would catch a sunset or two... Friday's spontaneously
came about as a friend of a friend (with whom I had only e-mailed)
was also looking for something casual to do. We ended up talking
until that unspecified time when late turns to early. Saturday
we went to some beach BBQ thing her friend was throwing that sounded
like fun and turned out to be the host s 17th annual abalone feast
with an amazing spread of food (photo-documented for a gourmet
magazine), a constant flow of $50+ bottles of wine and great people.
I was almost too sated to appreciate the sunset as I drove back
along the coast, so I figured I would make it the focal culmination
of my bike ride on Sunday. Riding home after the main event, I
stumbled across (crashed) a private charity concert in the back
yard of a home (mansion) in the Oakland hills and soon found myself
sipping Chardonay as Box Set (a local band I have liked for years)
started their second accustic set with the red/gold bay as the
backdrop. Why stop at the weekend? Come Monday I had arranged
to meet a friend for dinner, but suggested sunset/moonrise as
pre-dinner entertainment. We went to a spot I knew that was both
scenic and quiet. As a matter of fact there was only one other
couple there. That it turned out to be Cary and David (the man
she is dating) was a little awkward, but my life is too amazing
to really shock me that much. Talking about it later, it had a
far greater impact on Cary, but we both laugh about it now.
“Left me to love, what it’s doing to me.”
Traveling seemed such the right way to culminate this strange transition period. I gave a couple of month’s notice to the company that had contracted me (which in hindsight probably extended my stay), went through a series of goodbyes (which did feel a little like dieing), packed my life into a 10x6 storage unit and flew back to Asia. In many ways I was sad to go. In other ways, the choice was obvious.
“I feel fine.”
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