Un viaje sin fin
In these past few months I have learned how very much I can live without. An abundance of clothes, favorite types of food, the comforts of life that grow complacency rather than gratitude in the face of blessings. Something fundamentally changed when I fit my life into a suitcase and left a room full of stuff & a life left of center behind me. Everything fit, everything I needed came with me, and I say this knowing that my family and friends could not make this journey with me.
And what I mean is this: at the very center, the beating heart that gives rhythm to this life, at the deepest core of truth in this adventure: I needed me. I needed to stand alone. And not alone for an afternoon in my apartment in Boone while Katie runs to the store, not alone like the mornings that found me after Zach and I broke up, not alone paying bills and grocery shopping without the guidance of my parents. These "alones" are sown in shallow soil, these alones can be softened away with the opening of a door, a phone call, o reven the willingness to love again.
I needed to find the alone in my soul. The one that feels heavy with permanence, that sighs with strength, the place where I can plant only my two feet and know that my knees will not buckle under the weight of the world.
It began when I left my parents' arms and the airport gate door closed behind me. At first it smelled like the recycled air of a solitary plane ride, it was broken words in a journal and a handkerchief across my lap. I knew no one and discovered the isolating feeling of having no one around you in your life to give you a simple hug- you begin to understand how much they are earned. And when they finally came, I understood why they must be given with two arms: heart to heart.
I have made all of my friends, and I have made my own family.
I have introduced myself, peeled back parts of my life in layers for others to see and take of it what they will. I have given them Hallie without preconceived notions, the Hallie I have always wanted to be.
But even then, it's not what I gave, but what they helped me to see in myself.
I know now where love lives. This experience has changed me more than I ever thought possible. Perhaps for the first time, I am absolutely sure that happiness has fallen into step by my side. She has grabbed my hand and laced herself into my life, promising to never stray far, only to come and go with the lessons of the world.
There are so many things that I could never quite put to the right words: the feeling of freedom when you free-fall, nothing but you and the air and the miracle that you jumped. I flung myself into faith. A bungee jump from a bridge in the middle of Costa Rican countryside, the loss of direction: falling both up and down - the moment I spread my arms wide, echoed the words of Kerouac: "Okay, world, I'll love ya." The moment I truly learned to live.
So many people exist. They exist beneath pressures, expectations, the fear of the future and the burdens of the past. My incredible and old friend Pierre has always asked, "Are you existing or are you living?" Now I understand. Life doesn't simply happen to you. Complacency leaves no room for adventure.
Your hands and heart cannot do the good work of your soul if you leave them idle.
I died and was reincarnated. I left my life. Over my shoulder, I see the dulled parts of myself that I have shed, piece by piece through the weeks, through the months. Landmarks, mile markers, they stand as reminders of the distance my independence has traveled.
With my eyes ahead, I trace the now defined outline of my soul, and I feel the intricate stitches of all I have become.
And what I mean is this: at the very center, the beating heart that gives rhythm to this life, at the deepest core of truth in this adventure: I needed me. I needed to stand alone. And not alone for an afternoon in my apartment in Boone while Katie runs to the store, not alone like the mornings that found me after Zach and I broke up, not alone paying bills and grocery shopping without the guidance of my parents. These "alones" are sown in shallow soil, these alones can be softened away with the opening of a door, a phone call, o reven the willingness to love again.
I needed to find the alone in my soul. The one that feels heavy with permanence, that sighs with strength, the place where I can plant only my two feet and know that my knees will not buckle under the weight of the world.
It began when I left my parents' arms and the airport gate door closed behind me. At first it smelled like the recycled air of a solitary plane ride, it was broken words in a journal and a handkerchief across my lap. I knew no one and discovered the isolating feeling of having no one around you in your life to give you a simple hug- you begin to understand how much they are earned. And when they finally came, I understood why they must be given with two arms: heart to heart.
I have made all of my friends, and I have made my own family.
I have introduced myself, peeled back parts of my life in layers for others to see and take of it what they will. I have given them Hallie without preconceived notions, the Hallie I have always wanted to be.
But even then, it's not what I gave, but what they helped me to see in myself.
I know now where love lives. This experience has changed me more than I ever thought possible. Perhaps for the first time, I am absolutely sure that happiness has fallen into step by my side. She has grabbed my hand and laced herself into my life, promising to never stray far, only to come and go with the lessons of the world.
There are so many things that I could never quite put to the right words: the feeling of freedom when you free-fall, nothing but you and the air and the miracle that you jumped. I flung myself into faith. A bungee jump from a bridge in the middle of Costa Rican countryside, the loss of direction: falling both up and down - the moment I spread my arms wide, echoed the words of Kerouac: "Okay, world, I'll love ya." The moment I truly learned to live.
So many people exist. They exist beneath pressures, expectations, the fear of the future and the burdens of the past. My incredible and old friend Pierre has always asked, "Are you existing or are you living?" Now I understand. Life doesn't simply happen to you. Complacency leaves no room for adventure.
Your hands and heart cannot do the good work of your soul if you leave them idle.
I died and was reincarnated. I left my life. Over my shoulder, I see the dulled parts of myself that I have shed, piece by piece through the weeks, through the months. Landmarks, mile markers, they stand as reminders of the distance my independence has traveled.
With my eyes ahead, I trace the now defined outline of my soul, and I feel the intricate stitches of all I have become.
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