It’s getting colder here, and it rains most days. It may only rain for an hour, but that’s enough to flood the streets. It comes down hard and fast, very different than I’m used to in New York. It’s a nice change. I rarely miss the weather in San Diego, mostly because you never notice that it’s anything other than sunny or gloomy. There are always a few things I miss, but I’m not looking to go back.
I’ve started to look to San Francisco for my internship, a couple months in the fog. I have never had the chance to really explore the city like I want to. I wasn’t the person I needed to be last time I was there, and I had other work to do. There is a lot of potential there, and hopefully I can still get home around Christmas. A new year in a new city. I think that would suit me just fine.
I find myself looking ahead too much, trying to find out what will come next. I make plans and break them a thousand times over. What if? Why are the shortest questions always the hardest to answer? I imagine two months of good food, martial arts, exploration, and a new job, somewhere new. After that, who knows. I gave up on this feeling a long time ago, when I discovered the truth about Christmas.
Anticipation. It’s something I lost for a long time, something I believed I didn’t need or want. In some ways I’m sorry it’s come back. The only thing it’s doing for me right now is disrupting my sleep. Too many possibilities, and too many weird dreams.
I have been dreaming a lot lately, massive houses, open fields, flying, surfing, crashing. They’re the kind of dreams I never want to wake up from, and when I do, I’m not sure this world isn’t the dream. The only difference is that when I’m here I remember that world, but when I’m there I just am. I haven’t dreamed like this since before I came to Mexico. I wonder if it’s the prelude to something more or if it’s just my mind refusing to let go. Probably both.
One of the things I find amusing as the clock cycles down is the people who want to visit now. My friends and family are always welcome, but they keep aiming for a time after I’m already gone. I’ve been here almost a year, but I’ve really been alone. I made friends, but my old life has stayed where it was, in the past. Here I sit, listening to the sound of thunder behind a street vendor selling corn. Like they say, alone isn’t always lonely. I’ve even gotten used to not having a cell phone, and it only took a couple weeks.
In some ways I’m glad it happened. It’s an expensive lesson to learn, but I’m going to go much farther than just Mexico. I’ve been looking at Africa and Mongolia, and I know there’s no wifi infrastructure there. Then the question is, what do you do when you are truly alone? Knowing myself, I’ll find someone to talk to, someone who can teach me something I need to learn. The best thing about life is that it’s never short on teachers.