The dust and heat of the dessert were heavy, oppressive as we sped south in the car. I was immobilized in the passenger seat and Remi, more highly functional in the hot weather, was pretty much solo-piloting our southward road trip. Passing the border in Tijuana, things didn’t cool off much as we headed south down Baja California. The relentless movement of it: what were we running from? Or running to?
I wanted to put down my bags (at least for a little bit), stop bopping around and feel at home, to create a space for myself. I searched and searched: for months it felt like I would never find what I was looking for!
Just get started, set off and even though you can only see as far as the head beams illuminate in front of you, if you keep going long enough you can eventually make it all the way across the country. Or even to Mexico. I prefer a route with a bit more mystery, leaving a little something up to chance and just the beautiful unfolding of life as it happens.
Slowing down is beautiful because it allows you to get on intimate terms with a place. You can make lasting friendships, really learn the language, feel the textures and rhythms of a place, living so fully even as you’re on the road.
They come in all shapes and sizes, for everyone dreams in their own way. It’s these little visions that crop up, at times unexpected, shedding the light of some promising potential. It’s a half-drawn sketch, inviting us to pick up the pencil or take the first step.