Fair warning: This post has little to do with travel, and is my ramblings.
I don’t remember how old I was, or what the situation may have been, but I remember my grandpa telling me earnestly, “When you leave, always leave wanting more.” If I had to guess, I didn’t want to leave my grandparent’s house, and they were words of solace. That statement has stayed with me through so many choices; when I look back on things I’d rather not have done, I tend to just wish I’d terminated my involvement sooner (looking at you, Texas.).
As an extension of my recent reflections, I’ve thought about the people and events that have touched my soul and moved my heart in the past few years. The ones that have impacted me most are the people with whom I parted ways before I was ready. I believe everything happens exactly the way it should.
Monday marked the two year anniversary of the death of my grandpa. In the few weeks before I left for Brazil, I got to talk with my grandma about our memories, and how much I learned from him. I don’t regret a single moment we had, but I do wish there were more that we could experience together. Loyalty and honor.
I recently met a friend who brought out a part of me that I hadn’t connected with in a while. Whether we stay in touch for years or let communication fall by the wayside, I think we’re both better people from knowing each other. Recognition and receptiveness.
Seldom do I meet someone who can change my perspective overnight. There have been two girls I met while traveling who whip my paradigms of the world, then move on. One went by the name, ‘potato’ and the other taught me to hitchhike. Both carried everything they had in a 40 liter backpack. Opportunity and scarcity.
The ones who stick. The friends who I loved for a day, then became family. Who continue to push me in and out of the idea that my life begins where boundaries end, and journey to those boundaries with me. They’re my tribe and teach love in ways that family can’t. Balance and bravery.
So when it comes to loving these folks, I realize it’s better to move well than to arrive.
In life, I will fall in love with some people for one moon. They’ll come to me when I need them and be gone in the morning when I don’t. At first, I’ll feel empty and try to convince myself that I could’ve loved this person for longer than a day, but can’t. Some people are just meant to make cameo appearances, some are destined to be a pithy footnote.
I’ll also fall in love with someone so cold that I can’t find a smile, nonetheless a passion hiding below their layers. Someone who seems to push me away, leaving me only wanting their embrace. It will sting. but I’ll learn more from this love than I knew possible.
I will fall in love with the sounds of the zoo (?) in this neighborhood and the pungent smell of the marcado in the square. The way new places share the same wind, but the scents floating in it are unfamiliar. I’ll adore the roads that are halfway finished, and rhythm that is more noise than music.
I’ll fall for someone else’s love. To adore the way my grandparents bicker and the way they steal kisses, and how their heads land on the same pillows every night. I’ll see the way they hold each other as they walk into the unknown, because even their combined 150+ years can’t prepare them for some experiences.
Life, like any process, is not linear. It’s selfish and selfless, and purely tainted.
As I travel, through places and people and learning, I consider myself so blessed to get to share everything with loves that give life it’s special meaning.
This is secretly a shout out to my longest friend (mom told us so). We’ve done life together for just over 21 years, and have both shared our lives with countless others. I hope he’s been as in love with this world as I have. 🙂