Alchemic Verse

It’s been more than two months since the last blog – not for a lack of desire to write, nor a lack of experiences to share. Somewhere along the freeway of progress to embodied identity, the low motivation light came on and the lanes narrowed with bent and battered orange pylons down to one, clogged to a near standstill with traffic. The road signs became plastered over with “Road Closed” and “Detour” with no arrows showing the way around.

For a time, that felt like an anti-climactic end to a hapless adventure, sitting with my proverbial window rolled down, breathing fumes and inhaling the smell of tarred asphalt. Still, I forced myself to put on some music [write poetry here] and be present [take photos] with the trust [faith, trust with an absence of proof] that eventually, the traffic would clear up and wheels would start to roll forward. And so, in first gear, I share my experience in hopes of both entertaining and maybe showing folks what it’s like to try to jump-start life departed from the familiar.

The first week of stoppage after the journey described in the last blog was under-eventful. I knew my sojourn in that location would last only a week, and day job was day-jobbing hard, so my time was spent primarily on placating my frayed central nervous system and navigating the challenges presented by that proverbial waiting room. I “it’s okayed” my way through several setbacks, including the water being shut off briefly due to a clerical error in billing that was entirely out of my control, and an unforeseen but very active train howling passed where I stayed all hours of day and night.

That week I chose an important “yes” which brought one hopeful outing to meet up with a friend I met through online writing in their hometown. The company was welcome, friendly laughter was shared, and the specialties of local food were delicious, even if the locals that were not my friend ranged from warily confused to seethingly hostile in reaction to my existence. Bless my heart.

With a quiet goodbye to that stop, interrupted and silenced under the bleating horn of the train, I spent a few more hours on the road to arrive in my intended destination – the northern half of a city where I’d hoped [hope] to find a feeling of home after passing the bitter winter feeling like a splinter, crushed by swelling pressure that eventually pushed me out in bodily rejection.

The stay was comfortable enough, if not quite what was expected – a cozy couch, a fully fenced little yard with views of the brighter stars, proximity to endless commercial convenience. Saying “yes” to exploration meant drives to nearby establishments to obtain things I needed. Why do none of these rentals have a pan with a lid? These outings charted the nearby suburban sprawl connected by constantly under-construction infrastructure that has yet to catch up with the population it needs to support.

Chatting with taxi drivers during trips to and from downtown introduced a variety of characters from different walks of life with varying anecdotes and opinions that I always seek when in a new place. My drivers comprised a spectrum ranging from as new to the city as I was, to lifelong residents; some conversations took shape around lamenting change, job markets, the economy, the traffic, circling discomfort. Others celebrated the vibrant culture, the unique experiences and attitudes they cherish.

Unilaterally, all lauded the food, which aside from one somehow arid and flavorless bún đặc biệt I ordered, I would absolutely agree. The trips downtown themselves were an exercise in saying “yes” as often as possible – driving and walking exploration, traditional tea, live music, kava, community-led comedy, long talks and meals shared with a delightful new friend introduced by someone back home.

Knowing that my dog and I both require more private outdoor space and quiet than downtown could provide, and with a burgeoning desire to experience more culture than the commerce-driven locale I started in, I decided I should alter my stay to see more and other parts of this city, one renown for artistry and culture, which seemed deliberately excluded from the ever-growing section of corporate construction and sea of albeit eager young professionals.

Six weeks later found me where I stay now, a cheerier space that keeps the fenced yard and adds more privacy, an arch of jasmine flowers, and proximity to my new favorite type of business – coffee + bar combo with outdoor seating and one or more stages of music. Three weeks and change here so far have led to a new set of explorations and “yes” exercises.

…Yesercises?

The ongoing collection of results of the grand Yesperiment have been illuminating. Some have led to great success, like the coffeebarvenues, meeting friends of friends of friends, two impromptu music festivals, figuring out exactly what tasty items I enjoy most from the local convenience store chain, enjoying favorite drives on fun roads under broad sunset skies while exploring neighborhoods and nearby towns. Others have led to learning what should be a “no, thank you” should an opportunity repeat itself – the worst massage of my life, an eyelash lift and tint that I fear makes me look perpetually surprised, a small handful of people/places/experiences that do not align with how and where I wish to spend my time.

The Yesperiment has also shown what former comforts and habits might need to be reevaluated and potentially descoped to make the time and energy for the new, an often unflattering and toothpaste-speckled mirror to what the past near-year has shown me in all of my travels – a new location alone does not a new life create. Nowhere feels like home if one does not feel at home within oneself. Growth requires discomfort, radical self-honesty in balance with equally-unbridled self-compassion, and room in each day cleared for the new experiences one hopes to foster. More on that in my previous post, “Hot Take: Life Soup.”

Next month I have another foray into the unknown planned, a solo trip, the first of its kind given there is no intent to move attached to it – a solo celebration. For several weeks I considered ditching the idea, retreating to something more familiar, measuring the concept with an inherited, splintered ruler that marked having big experiences and milestones alone as pathetic, indicative of a lack of worth, of wrongness. In the wake of finalizing the itinerary, I choose to make kindling of the split remains of that ruler – this trip will be one where the only obligations and limits are those guided by my own heart and joy.

With that, the Yesperiment will reach a new milestone, a new highway marker, sailing into uncharted waters – saying “yes” to myself.