No Matter Where You Go, There You Are
A friend once told me that people keep “heading west” until they either 1. find themselves or 2. hit the ocean and can’t go any further. I laughed and shook it off, as I was about to move a bit further west and south after not finding myself anywhere in Colorado.
I presumed he told me this in an attempt to make me stay in Denver, where I had friends and a job and all the other trappings that we so hopelessly cling to as pieces that make up our identities. I went anyway.
Taos was a magical place full of winding dirt roads, riddled with potholes that no one would ever get around to filling. Island time took on a whole new meaning here. No store ever opened when it said it would and most shop owners closed early to catch the sunset or snag a bar seat at the nearest watering hole before tourists arrived for dinner.
I spent just under a year there and found certain things - plenty of animal bones, a beautiful river, nude hot springs - but not myself. So I wandered back to Colorado, but just a bit farther west this time to the outskirts of Boulder.
It wasn’t until I was about to move again, another year later, not the least bit wiser, that my silver-haired neighbor, Bert, told me “You know what they say,” I presumed this to be another one of his long but endearing stories where he branches off into seven different tales before coming full circle, endowing the listener at long last on the point of the whole thing.
“No matter where you go, there YOU are. You gotta get right with you because you can change all this,” He continued while motioning wildly to the surroundings - a 1979 Freightliner that needed a serious paint job and new tire, an equally aged Bronco, piles upon piles of stone, wood, and miscellaneous other recycled materials he hadn’t got around to making use of just yet. “And it won’t mean a damn thing. You’re still alone with numero uno, mi amigo, be it in Biloxi or Berlin.”
Of course I’d heard this expression before. Who hasn’t? I just always presumed it was of the “it is what it is'' variety - where it sort of just means “there you have it” without actually imparting any sound wisdom. I mean, obviously, no matter where I go, there I am. I will be there in the flesh, standing in whatever location I have just arrived to. It didn’t click until Bert emphasized the real point with wild gesticulations and an intentioned placement of his index finger right between my eyes.
I didn’t really know how to get right with myself, to love myself. I had no idea how to even be alone with myself. So I did what I do best, pigeon-hole myself into something I can’t back out of. I quit my job, broke up with my boyfriend, got rid of most everything I owned, and moved into a van.
