adventure

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  • de nuevo

    Last year I said “best birthday ever”. Sometimes I have to be careful about the things I say because I just may one-up myself and wouldn’t you know, I sure as fuck did.

    One of my besties was kind enough to come stay with R so I could have a handful of days away. When you’re armed with co-conspirators who know how special and deserving this is, paired with the fortune, privilege and sheer will to make something happen, on the morning of my 49th birthday I woke up in a nest of white linen in Barcelona. Wide eyed, fingers in my hair, church bells ringing in the skies.

    Truth be told, I could have gone somewhere else but I fell in love with this city so hard and there isn’t enough time to see and do it all – especially when you’re very distracted by such beautiful company. I needed seconds. And thirds.

    This time we…

    Touched the Mediterranean and collected rocks and sea glass on her shores
    Bathed in sunset light and marveled inside La Sagrada Familia. A stained glass and stone masterpiece that photos will never do justice of.
    Rode cable cars over the harbor up to a Spanish Castle
    Drank sangria and laughed in a bar from 1820 that once housed the likes of Picasso for my birthday
    Wandered around a flea market looking for treasures
    Shared: delicious food, walks, glances, firsts, words, alleys, art, music, hearts, souls, sin, bubble baths, vulnerable exchanges, wonder and breaths in/on/up against cathedral walls
    Laughed, connected, soaked, touched, talked, slept, worshipped, wondered, marveled, imbibed, cried and sighed… with this absolutely magnificent city as our stage.

    Such are the moments where the arrivals are brimming with excitement and anticipation. Reunions like no time went by and goodbyes that are a haunting and heartbreaking lullaby. They feel like that moment you put on a song because you already know it is going to reach right into your ribcage and hurt you so good. And then the time to part ways arrives and you feel like a piece of you goes to another part of the world while you take your salt clad lips home. It is all rather poetic in its own, very special way ~ and definitely not for the weak. But I see it this way, I would rather have fleeting moments of exceptional than a lifetime of average. It treats me well. So well I don’t know how to take it in at times and all I can do is brim with tears because I have never felt peace and care like this. Who knew it took a pandemic, hardship and flying half way across the world to collect some of these pieces of myself again. I knew it was going to be good but what I didn’t expect was that this would be even better than before.

    And this is what it was… Another monumental set of beautifully effortless memories. Another perfect, Spanish Autumn. A standing ovation.

    encore.

  • transformation

    I have spent a large portion of years nurturing everything but myself that one day I decided it was time to really start flipping that narrative. After meticulous planning and conspiring, the time came to give to myself. Time to start making dreams reality, to warm my own hearth. And so I did. On the morning of my 48th birthday I woke up in an abyss of crispy white linens, across the street from a gothic cathedral in Barcelona.

    Spain was a dream come true on more levels than I even hoped for. You ever go somewhere completely new and the second you’re there it just feels like home? That is exactly what it felt like. There aren’t enough words or photos that will ever summarize the impression that was left on me. Start to finish it gave me beautiful weather, incredible nourishment, a concrete labyrinth of beauty and art that I lost myself in, endlessly and willingly. And in her, I found even more pieces of myself that I thought were lost. When you have nothing to do but exist, wander and take in, I had a lot of time to think. I didn’t realize just how much I was willing to accept crumbs until a banquet was laid out in front of me… and not only did I make that happen, but I allowed myself to trust in its process and myself a little more. And for me, that is an enormous but uncomfortable revelation. I needed this Catalonian love affair far more than I could ever have imagined. It was perfection.

    It has been a week since I returned and I am still trying to wrap my head and heart around it even happening. I was ready for it, but what I didn’t expect was just how deep it would sink into me. When you finally make something happen, a lifelong daydream turn reality, and then for it to come together so seamlessly, you can’t help but wonder its veracity. Even when you have the carnage, bruises and longing embedded deep in you as evidence. I will forever twist my own flesh into believing it even happened.

    For a brief moment I got an exquisite taste of life, thriving, passion and my own capacity. I (and others) saw a depth in my eyes that hadn’t been seen in quite some time. I can’t even think or talk about it without weeping… not sure if it’s the post travel blues? Joy or happiness incarnate? Fulfillment and cup filling after being in a state of deprivation? I walked myself into something special, something so beautiful that I knew would change me even while knowing of the possibility it would split me in two, and boy did it. A voluntary walk into the fire that while transformative, also burned. It aches. Deliciously.

    One thing I do know: this birthday was the most perfect Spanish autumn, a series of firsts and bucket list checkmarks, an adventure of a lifetime that I will soon not shut the fuck up about. Best. Birthday. Ever.

    And now all I can think about is “what is next?”, because there will be a next…

    Mark my words.