Nothing happens by chance

We are water…of course water is regenerative for my soul. This is how my shower ponderings began today. Relishing in the steam enveloping me, I dropped into myself enough to feel my pores swallow the soft beads of water - I imagined my energy being recalibrated by the negative ions. The shower is where I have moments of clarity and true introspection. Today, I am profoundly in my feelings; it’s a big day, a day for existential thoughts. I felt a warm wave rush through me as I pictured all the other human beings on earth having a moment with themselves at the exact same time and I felt inextricably connected to them. How incredible it is that in a world of so much noise, solitude cannot escape us. We cannot escape ourselves. Every person has this opportunity - the chance to soak up their own self, feel their existence deeply, connect with their essence - this launched goosebumps all over my body. Then, my mind pivoted: isn't it funny how almost every day begins the same? we get blindsided by the best, the worst, and the mundane in life. Today was one of those days.

Charles Bukowski said it best - you have to die a few times before you can really live. I have lived a hundred mini deaths, most of them in my car parked alone in total shambles, tears flowing, snot drooling, thoughts spinning. I credit my survival to words - others’ and my own - scribbled in journals of different shapes and sizes. Some song lyrics, some poems, some deep truths. Without the intense feeling of being seen and heard through words - feeling connected to someone through our sovereign solitude - I don't know if I would be alive. I took my time to get dressed, grabbing my thinned out tie-dye Frida Kahlo tee and my favorite pair of jeans that felt like butter on my skin. I absorbed myself in the hallway mirror before walking out the door into the crisp October air, sun shining bright, and I reveled in how much I loved the reflection as I walked to the bus stop.

The bus ride was going to be long, so I brought some of my journals with. I wanted to read some old entries to feel the dissonance between who I am today and where it all began. Having profound moments alone while surrounded by strangers has a way of making me feel intensely alive. I mindlessly found a seat on the bus and began reading - a few entries hit me hard, starting with me at 22 - microcosms of the big picture that led me where I am today:

22 -

How does it feel, how does it feel?

To be without a home

Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone

-Bob Dylan

I can't believe I flunked last semester and have to be in state college all summer. Sitting on the library lawn listening to Bob Dylan, the breeze feels amazing; a brief relief from the thick air. Still, I want to crawl out of my skin. I can feel its layers tingling and shifting as my cells rebel against my current emotional state; the distance between who I am and who I want to be is too great, the lost-ness I carry with me, too heavy. I know it doesn't sound like it, but I have come a long way from when I planned to jump in front of a bus last year but I am still full of darkness that I don't know where to put. I feel alone except for Becca and Dre - I am so grateful that they allow me my feelings and see my potential - I will text Becca so she picks me up and we can roll a joint and melt into the depths of angst together. I don't know what I would do without her. I feel exactly like a rolling stone, without a home, the complete unknown more miliar than anything known. All I am sure of is that I will move far from here - to Southern California - and I feel a glimpse of ease as I am invigorated by the idea of living by the ocean and far away from here.

25 -

Made up my mind, make a new start

Goin' to California with an achin' in my heart

Someone told me there's a girl out there

With love in her eyes and flowers in her hair

-Led Zeppelin

So I did it, I packed my car and started the drive out to California and have Led on repeat. Here I am, searching for the version of me with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair, built from the arduous journey thus far- resilient and strong. I am pulled over in New Mexico at a rest stop with a view, no one else in sight. There is something so haunting yet comforting about the stillness that exists in the vast space between cities and the solitude it provides. I am watching the sunset and soaking up the silence in the valley, feeling supported and loved by myself and tingling from the possibilities that lay before me. I want to live an authentic life. I want to do what I want. I want to see the beauty in simple things. I desire more love for one another and less conflict within ourselves. So many of us display a fading flame behind our eyes - I want to see a glow - a light emanating and urging all to radiate their own fierce glow so people begin to crave, not hide from, interaction. So small talk transcends from engaging mindlessly to connecting profoundly. So vulnerability is not a sign of weakness but of strength - a sign that there is substantial interconnectedness within every single one of us that enables us to feel others. The people I see with weak flames, I want to hug. I welcome their disdain for my unnerving cheeriness and sharp self-expression - they don't know how the lost-ness I come from. I am unapologetically moving forward, I will no longer apologize for my emotions. I will never stop focusing on emanating my own light so people know: I am here to love, I am here to listen to the unmentionables that live in the immenseness of our minds with no judgement. I am aware some might not respond to this love, some might choose darkness over light, and when that happens I'll remind myself that one does not exist without the other.

But I am going to California and I will leave with love in my eyes and flowers in my hair, no matter where the next stop is.

28 -

I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger than reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me.

Anything I cannot transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me.

I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another.

No more walls.

-Anais Nin

I can't transform my life in San Diego to something marvelous, so I need to let go. I feel ungrateful and weird that I am not happy in my reality- how can I be so numb inside after feeling so alive and in love with a place? Will the chase ever end? I don't even know what I am chasing. This pragmatic, fear based way of living I've adopted out of lack is not what I want. Anais always gets me, her obsession with feeling anti-ordinary connects us. The only way out is in and I have to meet myself there. I wish I could hang out with Anais, lay in the grass together and imagine a time and place where life tastes sweet and where reason has no home. I picture her pouring out her heart in a little black book, like me. I thought I always lived by the beat of my own drum, but turning 28 is showing me the shoes society laid down for me that I stepped right into and have walked miles in. What am I doing in the corporate world? We are all creatives - imagine a world where each of us tapped into our authentic creativity and brought that to the table? You think call centers would exist? No, yet somehow the world would still spin - it would thrive. We would be barterers, builders, creators, connectors, and form a relationship with our crafts and change the world - I need to find my creative purpose. The more I think about it, the more I want to buy that van and hit the road alone. I will work from national forests and parks and focus on connecting with my creativity. If anything else, I get to see the marvel that nature has to offer.

Tears flowed and goosebumps rose as the bus churned away from its last stop. I lost track of time; when I looked up, reality struck but I could feel another entry bubbling up. I felt invigorated, alive, and ready - so I got my current red leather bound moleskin out.

30 -

Nothing in life is up to chance. I deserve this. I felt through life for this. Nobody warned me the journey home to myself would be the hardest, least hard thing to do. The most effortful yet fruitful work you could imagine. Living in the van and scribbling my thoughts in camprgrounds with flashlights freed me. The story that spilled out of me, effortless. My words are meant to be out there to create community and connection, to help others suspend the lost-ness and feel found in another person's experience. I can feel the magic of life around me. Nothing is by chance.

I looked up just in time, my stop was up. This was it. I treaded carefully out of the bus and I walked into the imposing building and meandered calmly and slowly to the elevators.

Post meeting, I could barely contain my excitement. I allowed the delicious feeling of alignment to fill my soul - I am getting published, people believe in me. The publishers validated my deep knowing - I am meant to speak my truth and show up vulnerably for others. I closed my eyes and felt the sun cloak me while waiting for the bus home. I remembered another Anais quote, The moment was all, the moment was enough and felt it hit me harder than ever. I allowed my gut to lead me through the empty bus and to a seat - gravitating to one in the back that smelled welcomingly like spilled coffee. Right as I was about to plop, I saw a journal on the seat, one of the shabbiest I have ever seen. I untied the string and began looping it around when I saw the corner of a 100 dollar bill - I felt chills and furrowed my brow at the same time. The more I unraveled the journal, the more I felt something big was about to happen. Inside the journal was a one inch thick stack of hundreds - my jaw dropped. I counted - it was $20,000. I looked around, incredulous. I closed my eyes and felt the heavy responsibility of finding who this belongs to. I began combing through the pages, looking for any inkling of contact information. My heart stopped as I landed on the final page - somebody's lackadaisical scribblings in black ink staring at me - “Nothing happens by chance”. Time slowed down instantly. I looked out the window...the anxious energy began to dissipate as I watched the buildings blend into a haze and I focused on my breathing. I transported back to my morning shower thoughts - almost every day begins the same - we get blindsided by the best, the worst, and the mundane in life. Nothing happens by chance. And today was one of those days.