Musings from Portland

It’s been a long day in Portland, OR. I have seen, completed, witnessed, eaten almost everything I intended. Currently, I am perched atop a bar stool. Party of one. I have met so many people throughout this adventure, yet it seems I’m learning most when it’s me who keeps myself company.

Some musings from this brain:

I absolutely love the Pacific Northwest. It’s beautiful. I love Seattle. I love Portland. Some silly reasons why: Recycling and composting is easy, if not demanded. People stop for jaywalkers–though most natives don’t jaywalk. Drivers still stop. The food is phenomenal. I haven’t been eating meat in this trip for a multitude of reasons–and it’s been easy. No surprise…vegetarian and vegan friendly.

Working on loving myself over again is difficult AND so utterly important and necessary. It’s shown up in so many ways this month: the ways I talk to myself; the lies I believe; the insecurities I feel. Being alone has exponentially increased my awareness of this which I am incredibly grateful for. My skin. My life. I get only one of each. (Well we get billions of new skin(s) on the reg as our cells reproduce but that does nothing for the point I’m attempting to make.) If I die soon…contentment in the last moments would be perfection achieved. A beautiful imperfect perfect.

Hurting people really do hurt others. But that does make the hurt HURT any less. I’ve been on the other side of the country for over a month yet I have been hurt out of nowhere by others. People from home…the daggers are long of those who harm. And as I have tried to breathe through my fight or fligh, anxiety-ridden reactions, here is what I’ve decided: people need to have to pass a test or take a course before they get their next age card. That being said, I don’t see there being any money in that anytime soon so my second conclusion is this: it is more confusing and hurtful when adults don’t act like adults. Fourth conclusion: It happens all of the time. 5th: Love ’em anyways (maybe from a distance, but don’t let others “stuff” be the weight you carry around). Let them deal with it. It’s not yours to carry.

Gratitude changes everything. Life is a series of choices. No, we cannot control all that happens to us. We cannot help who loves, hurts, chooses, betrays, or helps us. We only get to choose our reaction. Gratitude for what is, what is to come? Or bitterness? Hatred, regret? We choose. Life truly is ridiculously hard. But there is always something to be grateful for. 

Love really is all. I know, I know, it sounds so yogi, and granola, and cliché, and hippie, simplistic, and dumb. And it may be some or all of those things but that doesn’t make the statement untrue. To the cowboy I sat next to yesterday, he needed some education and love–which is all that kept me from telling him off, loudly and aggressively. The smoking fighter needed love. I overheard him call our bus driver a couple of lude, rude names…and there are a few names I came up with for him myself…but that doesn’t help anything. Me and my brain, we need some love, love for self. 

It changes everything. I so often come back to this “simple” point, but it’s not simple at all. Loving cruel people is difficult. Loving and not judging is abnormal. Loving despite media and culture stereotypes is a struggle and not inherent within us–usually.

Compassion. Love. Gratitude. A few syllables of consonants and vowels that have the power to change everything. 

Mean people, ignorant people, rude people, harmless, well-intentioned people have and always will be…how are you letting things roll off of you these days? How are you loving you better and worrying about others’ thoughts of you less?