The Traveler's Curse

10/8/23

Englewood, CO

There are is a rather concise list of things that matter to me, in my new life. Food, warmth, and friends being near the top of that list. And this new life is way too good.

As one of the creatures, on the road, with no plans, I’ve found the freedom to do with my life the things I’ve always dreamed of. Why would I ever go back? I certainly don’t need to if I play my cards right.

This morning, or last night, I was starting to freak out. If I were to stay here, I would start to build a life for myself. I would cultivate relationships and find things I want to do and have goals. I would develop desires and needs. I would get in the way of my ability to live this new life, and I might lose some of the joy that I’ve found. Not guaranteed, but, for me, very possible.

There are always two competing voices inside me, the voice of comfort and the voice of adventure. Everywhere I go, or everywhere I settle, the voice of comfort is screaming at me to stay. Don’t leave a warm bed, it says. Don’t leave sustainable housing. Don’t leave people you like. Think of all the things you could do if you stayed in one place. You could have friends, you could do meaningful work, you could relax.

But the voice of adventure screams at me to leave. Go somewhere new, it says. Have new experiences. Explore. Think of all the people you’ve never met and places you’ve never been. Think of all the new things you could try, and new knowledge you could learn.

Traditionally, the voice of adventure has always won in the end. Like a smell through the air it hits me, and it tells me that it’s time to go. That way, I keep my life simple. It’s far easier to skip across time and space, never resting long enough for the dust to settle and bring with it more complications to life.

The curse, one of several that seem to afflict me, is that I am unable, in my current state, to enjoy some of the best things life has to offer, due to my submission to the voice of adventure. Quite possibly just a temporary phase, but only time will tell.

If it makes you feel any better, I think of myself as a rare breed that can live with this curse and be ok. But time will tell that too.

(Left to right: Connor, Sam, Danny)

Today I visited the church Paul goes to, called The Heights. A very lovely group of people in a very cool old building. Unfortunately, it has not seemed to be able to reach the ugly demographic of Denver very well, as the majority of its congregation is very good looking.

The weather was beautiful. Warm sun coming through the trees, and hardly a cloud in the sky. Back at the house, we sat on the field and colored, talked, and tried our best to drink water, which is something that has been very boring to me lately. Then we played spike ball, another classic Christian pass-time. I have a square centimeter of skin missing from my right palm due to bouldering at the gym, so the activity was painful, but enjoyable regardless.

I invited myself over to the girl’s house to join Emma for dinner, which consisted of instant white rice (my contribution), Trader Joe’s Indian curry mix, roasted potatoes, and wine (also my contribution). Then we spent about an hour trying to cast "I Think You Should Leave" to the tv from a laptop, before resorting to watching it on the laptop.

All of which, in my opinion, made for an almost perfect sabbath.