In April, I lost my job. It was a jolting experience that I don't recommend. I don't want to get into the details of what happened or why, but it happened, and it left me without a sense of purpose or plan. Quickly after this happened, though, I had the pleasure of joining a couple of friends at the Coachella rock n' roll festival in California. It was a mind-bending experience to say the least, and I got to see many of my "bucket list" bands for the first time. This includes Radiohead, At the Drive-In, Jeff Mangum (Neutral Milk Hotel), Black Keys, and more. The festival was a great opportunity to sort of relive those times in my youth where I was carefree and excited about all life had to throw my way. I imagine the experience to be much like leaving Earth for a few days to see what they do on another planet (hint: party).
As soon as I got back to reality, however, things changed. A sense of purposelessness and confusion set in, and I didn't know what to do with myself. I fled Detroit with my tail between my legs and headed back to the beach. I moved back to Wilmington in hopes that I would be able to reset and rediscover the things that would make me happy and feel fulfilled.
Luckily, I had the companionship of two of my very best friends to help me get some direction. Together, we began the process of writing a feature length screenplay in hopes of turning it into an epic and hilarious film the likes of which no one had ever seen. It taught me a lot about the process of screenwriting, and on the off hours, I was able to get a few drinks in me and who doesn't like those? Eventually, the project hit a lull and those two brilliant mates of mine had to return to their real lives, leaving me in the shadow of mine.
So what to do now? I wanted to travel. To take the opportunity of not having responsibility to go see the people in my life that meant the most to me and go places I had never been. So I started planning where and what to do with myself. I took a trip to New York City to see friends I had lost contact with, and even took a detour back to Detroit on the way home to see what was left there for me. I guess I didn't really find what I was looking for because I left in a hurry, and drove back to Wilmington to try and find a job. Any job would do, I thought.
What I realized was this was easier said than done. So I decided to keep traveling. I bought a one-way ticket to Los Angeles, the city where angels fly and dreams go to either die or be fulfilled. And a beautiful city it was. I reconnected with some other friends, and got a chance to see a place I had only read about, only to feel a sense of disappointment and ennui. Not to say that those things are universally true of Los Angeles, it was just the sense that I got when I was there.
While I've never been a faith-driven or spiritual person, I've also had some interest in the way the cosmos drives us, and so I did the closest thing I know to taking a spiritual journey. With the companionship of two of my favorite funny people, I went to Joshua Tree National Park to see what millions of years of nature has built for us. Again, I felt like I was on a different planet, but one much different than the Coachella experience. This was more humbling, strange and mystical. At one point, I got stuck on a rock with no way down, and it freaked me out just to the point where I thought I might have to live the rest of my life up there, baking in the sun like a lizard. Strangely, I was at peace with that, but ultimately used my better judgement and found a way down.
With Joshua Tree and Los Angeles behind me, I took advantage of my Left Coast status and went to San Francisco. There, I was able to see even more of my friends and enjoyed the neo-hippie, uber expensive lifestyle that only Californians can muster. I enjoyed it, but, something about it felt fleeting and overwhelming, despite the beauty and truth at every corner. I knew my vagabonding ways had to come to an end. I was running out of money and patience, and never found was I was looking for.
On the way back to Wilmington, I tried to assess what my travels had taught me, and I think the result was something quite beautiful. It might sound morbid and awful, but what I discovered was that this thing I went in search of didn't exist. I went on a journey trying to find my place in the world, but in reality, that place is wherever I am.
Almost immediately after arriving home in Wilmington, I packed my things and got back in the car. I headed back to Detroit to be with someone with whom I realized I loved very much, despite all the ups and downs we had experienced. So here I am, back in Detroit, my tail out from under me and my eyes wide open.
I have friends here as I have friends everywhere in the world, and I know that the people who are important to me will always be important to me, no matter what. There are things that people can teach you that places cannot, and there are things you can own because you choose them. But most importantly, the thing I hope I can really take away from my experiences is patience. It's a patience you have to discover about yourself, and not a patience for the world. The world is going to keep rotating, and it's not going to wait for you to figure your shit out. All you can do is find your way and keep living your life. So I guess I've learned that there's not some glowing beacon of light out there waiting to be found. Instead, it's inside me, and I've had it all along.
Please note: I plan to write more in depth about my experiences, this is just meant to serve as an update so you know I'm not crazy (enough) or dead (yet). Please look for more posts from me about my adventures on this here blog, which I am super stoked to start back.
