therestlesssouls

[therestlesssouls]

|| #InGoodHands with The Present || Today marks the five year anniversary of #TheRestlessSouls blog. So, to mark the occasion, I am saying goodbye to it. • A year ago, I had just finished a two month bender through Mexico, Israel, and the Iberian peninsula after leaving my life in Chile. Back in the USA, I found my way across Texas, through a corner of New Mexico, and into Colorado. Hands on the steering wheel, I had nothing but time to reflect. • I was sick and lonely and ready for change. No more confusing the act of movement with actual progress. No more friendships borne of drinking and convenience. No more settling for what I was given instead of reaching for what I deserved. No more jumping ship when I felt cornered. That shit had run my life for too long and I was over it. I decided Denver would be my chance to live presently, one moment at a time. • When we tell ourselves we’re too busy, always late, and unable to commit- then we find evidence everywhere to confirm those beliefs. In the exact same way, if we believe ourselves to be independent, generous, and forgiving, then it will be so. What we believe internally, we seek externally to validate. I’m stressed, if I say so. You’re abundant in love, if you say so. We are whatever we believe we are, if we say so. • Knowing this gives us the freedom to leave our inhibiting stories in the past, right now. In this very moment we can decide to begin anew. If we’re going to choose life, we might as well be intentional with our words, be aware of our thoughts, and be loving in our actions. All together, they create our whole world and color our every interaction. • Now I see how that decision to live presently put an end to my metaphorical winter and ushered in an invincible summer. I was restless, because I thought/said/acted so. In the perfect space of NOW, I am not restless, I am grounded and wonder-full. I am not running from my past, I am striding towards my future. I am not afraid, I am awake. (at Bodhi Tree Yoga Resort) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bt3lsCIAq3R/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1aq8v0ewdt6ez

[therestlesssouls]

The Restless Souls: February 14, 2014- Present

Today marks the 4 year anniversary of #TheRestlessSouls blog. Exactly one year ago I was in Lima, the year before that, in Austin, the year before that in London, the year before that, Madrid. This year I’m back in New Jersey after an unexpected 3 week trip to Israel, Madrid, and Portugal. 

The past 365 days have knocked me off my feet and onto my knees. There were so many extreme highs and shattering lows, I know there’s a million lessons to be unearthed from this year in review. Here is just one restless soul takeaway from 14 February 2017 to 14 February 2018...

In the past 4 years I’ve held 7 official residences, not including the countless hostels, camps, couches, and buses that have served as temporary homes. It gets tiring, living with this impermanence. But it is also a great exercise in non-attachment. I often get asked how I can live out of a suitcase. Before, to prove the point that I didn’t need much, I used to smugly say: “you know, I’ve heard people who have just lost all of their things in a fire actually feel a great sense of relief.” What the hell did I know? I was mimicking what I thought it meant to be enlightened, never actually suffering that fate myself. 

Then, in the early hours of December 31st, 2017, New Year’s Eve: my father’s apartment caught fire. It started in the back of the building and clawed up the fire escape. To make a terrible story short, the roof collapsed from the weight of water used to put out the flames. Everything in my Dad’s apartment was burned or crushed. The whole building is condemned and remains inaccesible. 

But out of every awful event- the most important thing prevails: my Dad is alive, he escaped unscathed through his third floor window thanks to the bravery of the firemen who responded. His passport, all of his clothes, books, furniture, the few photographs he had of family in Thailand, all of it is gone. Also gone are my travel journals from the past year, skateboard, camera, suitcases filled with clothes and art collected from around the world. 

Despite living with a constant impermanence, that last thing, the art, is what I deeply miss. It was a grounding process every time I moved somewhere new. I’d spread all of the colorful squares of art, pictures, photographs, and ceramics on my bed so I could behold the display in front of my eyes. I’d visualize where I’d put the series of postcards from Naples, and the azulejos prints from Portugal. I’d imagine where my photographs from Peru would hang, and I’d flip certain prints, seeing a new image in a picture laid upside down. Then I’d get to work, decorating my new four walls with these mementos that gave me a sense of home, finding joy in a new space and a new light. When I travel, I tend to travel alone, but I always had a constant companion in my art. With each place I visited, I’d add to the collection: prints of tapestries from Scotland, watercolor skylines from Iceland, and miniatures of my favorite paintings from Spain. 

I know they’re just things, but these tangible bits of art gave me some semblance of roots. Even the most restless soul needs a talisman, a keepsake to keep one’s heart safe. At least that’s what I thought...

Losing my phone, having my entire backpack stolen the next month, then getting another phone stolen, and on and on. I think this fire was the final nail in the coffin of covetousness. I am not my art, or my journals, or my phone, or my camera, or my clothes. I am not any of it. And maybe to prove that point: the universe tested me with an unprecedented amount of loss this year. So much lost, stolen, burned, and borrowed. So I say thank you for it all. Everything that leaves me goes to someone/somewhere else. Because when you lose, whether it be physical or mental: more space opens up for the light to come in. 

Traveling treads a dynamic balance between arrogance and humility. It’s easy to grow an ego visiting different countries and wanting to tell the world about it. But it’s also extremely humbling to meet individuals and communities truly making an impact where they are. All we can really do is start where we are. We can’t take any of it with us when we die, none of these material things. But the empathy we share, the time we give, and the patience we practice is lasting. This next year, I will live with less and give more. I will strive to sync my thoughts, my words, and my deeds into harmonious expression. This year, I’m not traveling to find myself, I’m living to define myself.

[therestlesssouls]

Torrey Pines, San Diego, California: December 2017

The last sunset of 2017

[therestlesssouls]

San José del Pacífico, Oaxaca, Mexico: December 2017

The end of my trip culminated with an unexpected excursion to San José del Pacífico. This pueblo is the highest point between Oaxaca city and the coast. I’d met kindred restless souls at my hostel in the city and they invited me to join them on their journey up La Cumbre. When we got off the bus in this mushroom filled town, we hiked up the hill until we reached a hostel chiseled into the mountainside. 

Perfect is not the word- it was something more like kismet: the stars aligning. 

Next to the entrance of the hostel was a trail leading up to a dense forest. It was a steep climb, high altitude, and ideal climate. The first day we stopped when we wanted and created a cocoon of hammocks, spending hours just looking up at the billions of plants and shades of green that surrounded us. When it got later in the afternoon, we decided to descend and re-enter the hostel. When we arrived, it was just about sunset. Layers and layers of smoky mountains stood out against the sharp, bright electric sunset. A crescendo of sun rays streamed over us as the sun set over the ocean and the moon took over for the night. 

[therestlesssouls]

Lago Bacalar, Quintana Roo, Mexico: December 2017

I found out about this freshwater lake from a waiter in Tulum. I was trying to figure out where to go next, someplace to unwind before Oaxaca. He recommended this spot so on a whim I took a bus 3 hours down to this magical little town and lived in a blue water bubble for the next few days. Right in the hostel’s backyard was a dock that led straight into the lake. Peaceful, quiet, and teeming with happy people taking a break from the parties of Cancún. At sunrise we went stand up paddle boarding, and in the afternoons we walked around the tiny pueblo, eating fresh tacos and topping it off with bizarre ice cream flavors. Every night, there was a different music concert- sometimes held in the old town’s ruins, others in a majestic church. Everything was walking distance and everyone was in a good mood. It was dream-like, reading book after book lying horizontal under the sun and spending the evenings meeting new friends and stargazing. Before Bacalar, I had only seen one shooting star in my life: in the desert of La Serena, Chile. But here in this paradise, we caught shooting star after shooting star, quickly blazing across the inky indigo sky. This place was so magic, even after dropping my camera in the lake- the pictures on my sim card were saved. 

[therestlesssouls]

Cozumel, Mexico: December 2017

We took a bus and then a boat to the island of Cozumel. Away from the hustle and bustle of the touristy center, we rented a motorbike and drove along the windy coast to the other side of the island. Beach after beach, separated by little more than sand and storm clouds. When the sun came out we were ready, jumping in, taking wave after wave to the face. Floating in the middle of the world, nothing mattered, especially not the day of the week. 

[therestlesssouls]

Tulum, Quintana Roo, Mexico: December 2017

Eat. bike. swim. repeat.

[therestlesssouls]

Ciudad de Mexico: December 2017

I presented the defense of my thesis on December 1st. The very next evening I said goodbye to my life in Chile indefinitely. En route to the USA to spend Christmas in California, I decided to make a three week stop in Mexico. A few of my best friends in Chile are from Mexico so in the weeks leading up to this trip they made on an ongoing list of all the places I should visit, and more importantly: all the foods I needed to eat. So I arrived in Mexico, blurry eyed and excited for the adventure ahead.

And then a funny thing happened: things kept falling apart, but I kept getting happier. Within five minutes of dropping my bags off at the hostel, my phone got stolen out of my front pocket while walking down a busy street. I forgot my credit card and international debit card in my suitcase back at the hostel that I wouldn’t be returning to for another 2 weeks. One evening while stargazing by a lake, I dropped the digital camera I’d bought to replace my phone into the water. By the end of my trip I was covered in flea and mosquito bites. One thing after another but somehow LIFE WAS GREAT. No phone, no camera, no credit card and I’d never felt more free.

I walked through the streets of Oaxaca unhindered by the need to take pictures- because I couldn’t. I was able to watch one parade after another go by: clapping and cheering instead of watching it through a lens. How could it be that the most colorful city I’ve ever seen, would never be captured by me? It was a gift. I listened deeper, stared longer, and wandered further.

[therestlesssouls]

Stonington + Acadia National Park, Maine: September 2017

Maine is the most consistent place in my life. I’ve been going there every year since I was born. It’s also a place I had never been to without my grandpa, Pop-pop. This past September was the first time. It was strange and disorienting, I broke into tears the moment we pulled up to the house. He loved this place more than anything. He was a sailor, an avid reader, a generous gardener, an intuitive cook, and a joyful bird watcher- all activities that he took up with gusto in Maine. As we got older and schedules became more restricted- there was always time for Maine. This is where we went to lose our phone signal, let breakfast extend into the afternoon, and catch each other up on our lives. We’d read on the back porch, looking up occasionally to watch the tide roll in, lapping up the edges of the cove before rolling back out again. 

As I wandered from room to room of the wooden house, I felt his presence imbued in everything. The mug he used every morning, the fire place he loved to use on chilly summer nights, all of the books dog-eared and scribbled in- everything reminded me of him, and in turn, reminded me he would never be there again. What could I do but pore over everything he might have touched? I opened up his massive filing cabinet filled with colored folders and dividers. I pulled out one marked with my name. In it I discovered that he had printed out every single email we had exchanged over the past 5 years. Pop-pop was my most favorite pen-pal. Wherever I went, we were in touch. It took about two seconds for the tears to start rolling again. He had highlighted certain passages and added his own notes as well. 

One email particularly struck me. I was thanking him for something and in his reply he was trying to explain why he didn’t want any recognition or thanks. He had written in pencil next to my message: “when you have children of your own, you will understand.” We were more than grandfather and grandchild, we were the best of friends, and he was my eternal North Star, my point of reference, and my forever mentor. He gave and guided and loved so effortlessly and so completely, his loss has left a permanent lump in my throat and clamp over my heart. Maine helped to remember him without falling apart. It was possible to laugh and be happy in this home without him. He didn’t believe in heaven or even a God- yet he lived so purely, free of ego and vice that it’s hard to make sense of how he followed a code of ethics without the aid of a higher power. I miss every moment, all of the time, without pause. I miss him and I keep missing him and I always will. But he made us strong enough to keep going, to carry on come what may. 

[therestlesssouls]

Aysén, Chile, September 2017: Along the Carretera Austral

Patagonia goes on and on and on, but the entrance begins at Aysén. The five of us rented a car and spent 5 days and 4 nights adventuring through the pristine winterlands of northern Patagonia. Hiking, horseback riding, boating through marble caves, climbing icy glaciers, and rafting in the frigid water took up our days. But honestly, my favorite part of it all was just the five of us, from five different countries, spending all day and night with each other. Whether it was crammed together in a car, singing along to music and laughing and teasing each other- or cooking with one pot and drinking cheap wine in front of a tiny furnace... that's what I remember most. The joy of traveling with friends is such a rare gift. You leave your everyday life and suddenly everything is an adventure and every activity will become a souvenir of memories made with people you love.

[therestlesssouls]

Horcón Chile: May 2017

Tie a string, make a wish and let it be.

[therestlesssouls]

Valparaíso, Chile

It’s true, Chile is not known for the cuisine. Despite endless coastline and fertile soil- you’d be hard pressed to find a Chilean restaurant outside of Chile. BUT, there is true beauty in the simplicity of Chilean food. Garlic, lemon, salt, and onions are all the seasoning you need for preparing a delicious asado with friends. Cheap beer, fresh seafood, and lots of fruit make up the staples for preparing a family dinner. To be satisfied with such simple dishes is a practice in appreciation for basic flavors that don’t need manipulation, fusion, or saturation. Chilean food is ancient and timeless all at once. 

[therestlesssouls]

Valparaiso

So small Like a cloth Helpless Hanging Ragged in a Window Swaying In the Wind of the ocean Impregnated With all the pain Of your ground Receiving The dew Of the sea, the kiss Of the wild angry sea That with all of its power Beat the rocks It could not Knock you down Because on your southern chest Is tattooed The struggle The hope The solidarity And the joy As anchors Resisting The waves of the earth.

-Pablo Neruda

[therestlesssouls]

Valparaíso, Chile

This city I fell in love with 5+ years. The city I lived in, the city I walked through, the city I could never figure out. Every time I took a new turn, I’d discover a new neighborhood, a shop I had never noticed before, endless street art that multiplied with each day. Maybe that is Valparaíso’s charm: it could not be pinned down and explained, only temporarily inhabited and adored. Even Pablo Neruda grasped to find the right words to describe this city of hills.

[therestlesssouls]

Lima, Peru: November 2017

I traveled to Lima to celebrate the Marine Corps 242 Birthday (a.k.a. Marine Ball). After the excitement of the event, I spent the next few days retracing my favorite spots around the city and discovering some new places as well. I think I love Lima so much because the first time I visited, back in 2012 I was only there for a night. I had no idea what the city had to offer besides clubs and light pollution. When I finally got to spend a good amount of time in the city years later, every day was a surprise. This capital by the sea is one of the most colorful cities I’ve ever seen. There seems to be a certain pride and joy in cultivating flowers and plants from any available surface. I can’t count the number of hours I spent roaming the back streets of Barranco and Miraflores, taking pictures of the urban fauna. My favorite discovery during my most recent trip back was visiting the Museum of Natural History. In back of the building they’ve created an eco home and garden to teach kids how to recycle, compost, and take care of the land. It reminded me of the truth that nothing belongs to us, we are simply taking care of it for the generations who come next.

[therestlesssouls]

Isla Providencia, Colombia: July-August 2017

When I came back from Colombia, I found it near impossible to explain the experience to my friends and family. Incredible, epic, beautiful, special- all of those adjectives just didn’t work. Finally I settled on: therapeutic. Shortly before I decided on this trip, I experienced the biggest loss of my life. More than my mother and father and guardian- my grandpa was my heart and I wasn’t ready for it. Who is? I know that without him, I never could have or would have dared to travel as much as I have in my 26 years on Earth. His encouragement, support, and wisdom were these crutches I had grown up with and when he passed away, and in the way he passed, I was left untethered, drained and empty. I hoped that Colombia would be my way of reconnecting with him and with myself. Before, whenever I went on a trip- I’d always write and send him pictures, finding double joy in experiencing these adventures and getting to share them with him. And sure enough, everyday that I was in Colombia, I thought about him, playing his voice in my head and staring into space just thinking about what this life is all about. 

Through traveling, I keep is spirit alive. He was such a man of the world, fitting in as comfortably in Paris as he did in Bangkok or Monterrey. He was a quiet observer, and enthusiastic learner, and most of all a generous explorer. He loved to share his stories of skiing in Washington, riding around New Mexico, and sailing in Maine. As I traveled around Colombia, with one day becoming a week, and one week turning to four, a new awareness come to fruition. Traveling brings out the best in me, it opens me up and spreads my soul around. It emboldens my actions and warms my compassion. I feel complete and curious and engaged. I travel because I feel more like my grandpa when I’m on the road. In his memory I keep moving, searching for common ground between countries.

[therestlesssouls]

Crab Key, Isla Providencia, Colombia: August 2017

I went to Crab Key three times while in Isla Providencia. The first time was at night, and I had no idea what I was supposed to be seeing. We arrived via speedboat, just two new friends and I. We scrambled onto the wooden deck attached to the key. With only the moon as ur guide, we decided to climb to the top of the little island hill. I moved slowly, one foot in front of the other until finally there was a clearing. I dared to look up and splayed out for the whole world to see were millions of stars just waiting to be seen. And when I finally pulled my eyes away from the sky I was flooded with darkness again.

The second time I went to Crab key was via boat with a group of other passengers. I broke away from the rest and put on snorkeling googles and proceeded to take laps around the key. I couldn’t believe all of this was here the first time I had arrived. I’d never seen water so clear, straight down to the white sand beneath my feet. I scraped against coral and pursued shimmering fish, ignoring the pain and gulping in this whole other world that exists beneath the surface.

The third time I went to Crab Key, we arrived in kayak. As we approached this little key, it looked like the clouds were about to unleash some serious rain, but in the blink of an eye the sun came out full force and the water showed its diamonds. Sparkling and clean, I couldn’t wait to go under. Out of the kayak, onto the deck, snorkeling gear on and off we went. As we circled around the fish we saw turtles in the distance. Big, lazy, graceful sea turtles twirling for the fun of it. I followed them incessantly, marveling at how comfortable they were around me. When they went up for air, I went up. When they swooped down, I followed their lead.