Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Spanish Handshakes

In this exact instant I find myself in the center seat of the 23rd row of a Virgin America airplane. Besides the constant humming of jet engine combined with random soft jolts of slight turbulence the cabin is completely silent. Takeoff was only thirty minutes ago and as music is  playing in my white earbuds my good friend Jack Colombo is in the chair next to me. 

It's been six months since riding in an airplane and despite the limited leg space and lack of free movies it feels good to be on the move towards somewhere again. The last time I looked out the window of a moving plane it was to return home from teaching English in Murcia, Spain at the beginning of the summer. Our landing destination will be New York, Jack's current stomping grounds. The plan is to celebrate New Years in Brooklyn this upcoming Thursday, mix in some random exploring around the Big Apple, hopefully catch up with a few other longtime friends who are living in this part of the East Coast, then leaving the city on January 4th.

Upon arriving home last June I didn't know what the future would look like. I didn't know that I'd be going to New York for New Years. It was vastly uncertain if I'd be teaching English in Spain for a consecutive school year. It was unknown that I'd land a pretty fun wine bar job in San Francisco and meet a lot of interesting people there. I didn't know how fortunate I'd be to have reconnected with close friends and family since coming back to the Bay Area.

I also didn't know that on January 4th, 2016 I would book a one way ticket back to Spain.

After hanging out with Jack in New York the plane that will send me away from the city won't travel back towards California, it will head accross the Atlantic for a layover in Copenhagen then finally touching ground in Barcelona. 

In this exact moment there isn't a single day of accommodation booked, nor is there an official itinerary once in Spain. The first goal for this trip is first take some time to simply "be" in Barcelona, to drink a black coffee in an open plaza somewhere or possibly try to learn some Catalan words in dim lit bar. The most important and possibly only "real" reason for being back in Spain is to return to Murcia to see my former housemates, English teacher friends, the staff of Nuestra SeƱora de los Angeles and Vicente Medina, and to see the kids who I once helped teach last school year. 

Being home has been great but I really miss the people who were an important part of the experience that was living in Murcia. Seeing some of them again will be a blessing and I'm not sure how it will feel beyond absolute joy. 

After revisiting, sharing hugs and then handshakes with friends of last year the rest of this trip will be guided by chance and a desire to let Spanish breeze decide.

I don't know how long this will all last, maybe a few weeks or possibly a couple months. I don't know where buses and BlaBla cars will end up taking me. Sunrises and sunsets are the only things I know will happen once Jack and I starting walking towards the exit of the New York airport.

The other only thing I do know is that I'm sitting in an airplane, the leg room is ample, and there is a smile on my face. It's time to enjoy the ride. 

If you've read this far, thank you! Have a great New Year and keep doing what makes you happy :)
 


Thursday, December 10, 2015

Those Days in December

On August 13th, 2015 I opened up a newly purchased black moleskin journal and started writing about my day.

It was a Thursday evening and I don't remember my mood or why I decided to scribble in it's first lines during that particular moment.

"Today is Thursday and in this exact moment there is only an hour left in my day at work." 

Nothing more and nothing less was written. For the past few years I have been slowly filling black journals in hopes of remembering small moments, names of people, dates, ideas, and things that have been happening around me. Inside I want my future self to read about these mostly random accounts in order to not forget about experiences.

The moleskin that was started for no real reason on August 13th, 2015 is currently sitting opened faced in front of me atop the faded wood of my families' coffee table located centrally within the breakfast nook of our house.

I find myself seated and a semi-fresh cup of kind-of hot coffee is being guarded by one hand while a black inked pen is in marching formation within a tangle of right hand fingers.

After nearly four months of traveling between my hands and pockets, my backpack, forgotten at work, the backseat of my car and countless coffee shop tables, I find myself looking at a blank page within the now faded in color journal.

The last page.

A single sheet of paper is the last line of defense before purchasing another 190 something page directory of wanderings and going from prologue to epilogue.

It was hard to know that four months would go by before finding myself here in this moment, sitting above this book like a human balloon, looking for a way to properly end a chapter of personal accounts.

I didn't know back in August that I'd writing about being a year older, about attending my high school's ten year reunion, celebrating Thanksgiving in addition to Halloween before reaching the end of this moleskin booklet. Those events mixed with scribbles about meeting up with friends, going to work, being with my parents and describing various surroundings have filled most of this leather companion's contents.  Reflecting on four months of writing has made me grateful for friends and family and they have been a great source of inspiration not only in writing but also to be a better person. I feel blessed to have them in my life, and to you who is reading this I also feel honored that you have taken time to read this blog post.

With one sheet left I don't really know what to write. Some notes about how the current December day has progressed would be appropriate. I ate some really good breakfast tacos earlier today, maybe that would be worth remembering. Or possibly a random thought that just popped into my mind might seem interesting the next time the booklet finds itself fully opened between the palms of an older self's hands.

With pen tip slightly angled and pressed upon the top left corner of the very last page I feel joyed to be at this point, to have gone this far not only in this particular notebook but in life.

Looking back, the past four months are something I would never elect to replace and it's great to have experienced them. In an instant everything can change, and it's impossible to know what December 11th, 2015 will look like. It feels good to simply be here now.

Gazing to the side window my attention is temporarily distracted by a passing car.  I press firmly with the black inked pen between the grey lines of the very last page.

It's just a day in December, but this time I know what mood I'm in.

"If you've made it this far, don't stop, keep going."

Outside it's raining. I can sense that it's almost time to get ready for work.

If I hurry maybe I can swing by the bookstore.