When It's Time To Hit The Road

What I learned from two months away from home.

Hi friends.

Tricia and Jason came to town this week. As per usual, they went to Trader Joe’s and showed up at my house with snacks. ("Jelly beans?” she texted before she arrived.) It’s how they like to enter a home, bursting in delighted and excited with all kinds of treats. Also as per usual, we talked about books endlessly, reading them, thinking about them, writing our own books, how our books sort of speak to us and show us the way to the end of them, and how we learn from the work of our peers. And we hiked to a waterfall and ate great food and shopped at gem shops and paid my small dog lots of attention. They were sort of the grand finale to my being here.

So now I am sneaking out of town early for one last adventure with my dog. And trying to collect my thoughts in this letter to you before new ones take the forefront, the ones about packing and cleaning and driving and checking in and out of new places for a few days before I land back in my own bed again for a bit.

What did I learn from being out of town for two months in a beautiful but isolated environment? I spent a lot of time contemplating loneliness, to be honest with you. I have identified as a single person for a long time (even, perhaps, while in a relationship) or a solo artist or whatever you want to call it. I’ve constructed an existence rich with real-life, in-person elements to safeguard against extreme loneliness. Living in a fairly walkable city with an active street culture and a strong sense of mutual aid and solidarity. Focusing on being open and friendly and adaptive to new situations. Trying to be a whole person.

I know, whatever “being a whole person” means. But it means something, right?

But in the woods, away from neighbors and the community I’ve built up so deeply in New Orleans, I really felt my aloneness in a new way. Though people were friendly to me, on a daily basis it was just me and my tiny dog and all the animals around me. I appreciated the interactions I had with the creative people I met here, but I was reliant on myself most of the time for bouncing ideas around and pep-talking myself onto the page. That’s fine, it’s what I do for a living. I should be able to give myself feedback, and if anyone knows how to talk themselves into writing it’s me.

But still, it was definitely an isolating experience. I spent a lot of time reflecting on that in my notebook. On being alone.