Last night I went out on my first date in Australia. Got a shower, put on some make up (the first time since I got here), changed my outfit (again...I’ve pretty consistently been wearing the same thing for a week. Such is the life when you’re trying to travel light and hate unpacking a suitcase) and set out, taking the long way there and the long way home.
The best part of going on a date with yourself is that you can’t be late. Which, any of you that know me are aware of Smarr time..aka squad time...aka late for everything. But going solo, it’s like being a wizard. “A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.” Thanks for really understanding, Gandalf.
Other perks: you choose where you go, where you sit, when you leave, and you don’t have to feel the pressure of sharing any delicious food you order. Honestly, though, I’m usually the one asking for a bite of whatever anyone else got, so that last one is kind of a pro/con.
The more I travel and the longer I go the better I get at listening to my body and becoming more efficient with what it needs. It’s clear for me now when I need to relax my rush and take things at a more realistic pace. I’m better at caring for myself and accepting rest days. I’m better at slowing down. Yesterday, I took time to meander through the community and interact with its residents. The women in the consignment shop and the owner of the boutique. Fellow guests at the hostel and the owner and servers at the restaurant I chose. The musician with her guitar on the patio while I ate. Warm interactions and welcoming conversations. Genuine interest in what we chatted about and best wishes for safe travels. It was a somewhat up and down day, but last night, the universe made sure to wrap me up and present me with all of the beautiful things I crave in life.
It gave me company and community, probably one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten, music, a breeze (because apparently no one in Australia uses air conditioning and the humidity is death), and a chance to be good to myself and celebrate the parts that I normally let go unacknowledged. When she started playing “Fade into you” by Mazzy Star, images of chasing the Oregon sunset over the Columbia River and waiting for the bride in a small crowd of the most genuinely loving people, barefoot in the sand at sunset on the beach in Tulum during my first international wedding. This song has shown up in some of my most overwhelming and beautiful moments of transition in the past year and a half. As she melted into the first chorus, I felt the universe squeeze me even tighter and remind me I’m right where I need to be and everything is unfolding as it should.
Sitting alone with my notebook and my beer and the beads of sweat gradually dissipating in the long awaited breeze. Not once did I feel lonely. Not once did I feel like something was missing without someone sitting across from me at my candle lit table. When you’re alone and traveling you realize you’re never actually alone. You can, and will, meet people. Every new place takes you back to being a child on your first day of school. The anxiety of being alone, the anticipation of what it will be like, the questions that pass over you. Will they like me? Am I too weird? Should I not have said that? But then you meet another kid that has the same favorite color as you and that’s all you need to start the conversation. And that conversation is all you need to make a new friend. And that new friend helps you feel seen and heard and connected. When you figure that out, you never really feel alone. Human connection is a beautiful thing. No matter how small the interaction, it can touch people in ways we’re unaware. So be generous with your kindness and stingy with your judgement. Most people are doing the best that they can, and even if they aren’t, we could all use a little more support.
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