I was at a bar in Seattle listening to the band’s hard thump in the adjacent room, when I spotted a man sitting on a bar stool against a dark wall. He had an acoustic guitar in his hands and had an open face. This was 1992, when creativity and young friendship breathed in the air all throughout the city.
His name was Caleb and he was traveling around the U.S. busking. We chatted for a while in that ill-lighted bar. Like most nomads, he didn’t have a place to sleep that night. I invited him back to my house where, over glasses of red wine, we continued our conversation spinning long into the night.
Caleb left in the morning for his next adventures. He had no address to share, and I moved too often for anyone to keep track, so that moment was caught up in the ever-moving stream of time. The youthful encounter with a stranger lives as a mystery in memory.
If that connection had happened today, we would have exchanged emails, cell phone numbers, and found each other on Facebook.
Would having sustained connection take away some sense of the special from that night? The progressing relationship changes the memory from an ethereal occasion to a static point in a continued timeline, with mystery lost to knowing.
Do these constant connections reduce the mystery in our lives? While it is wonderful to forge new friendships, have we lost something uniquely special by the forfeit of these exquisitely ephemeral moments?
Razorgirls will still be here for random ramblings and motorcycle stuff, but the dogs and I are splitting town on Sunday and I built a website so y’all can follow along with my photos and writings and locations.
When you subscribe to no-destination, you will get a weekly update (on Thursdays) with my posts.
I usually don’t do these kinds of lists, but in light of the political atmosphere and general tension, I think it’s good to remind oneself of the good things. Hopefully, this will inspire others to do the same.
In no particular order:
The doggies. Their unabashed appreciation of my existence, especially around meal times, always brings a smile to my face, and often a giggle too. I love these furry critters.
Continued decent health. I am lucky to have hearty genes.
My history of friends. When I posted on my Facebook page that I was leaving my job to go travel road-trip, the massive response, invitations, and “move here!” replies overwhelmed me. I was looking at 35+ years of my life through my friend’s posts. I am astounded by the wonderful people I’ve made – and continued to have – connections with throughout my many, many, varied chapters of life thus far.
Family. We are spread out over a few continents, but still email and call each other for advice, recipes, and updates, and we gather together when possible.
The opportunities this job has given me over the past few years. I’ve learned a ton both about tech and about corporate work environments. It is all valuable learnings. I hope to take my knowledge forward to build a solid new chapter.
Did I mention my doggies?
The camper. I was fortunate to be able to buy my camper last year. It has kept me sane during some very trying months. It is also in what the pups and I will be living for the next indeterminate amount of time.
My truck. Solid, well-built, reliable.
I must say that it’s hard to list everything for which I am thankful.