Harpers Ferry

I told myself that I would visit all 50 states before I turned 30. I don’t know where I got the idea, but I like attainable goals, so I’m sure that had something to do with it. Pre-pandemic, I had planned to cross off at least seven more states this year. The pandemic put an obvious wrench in my plans, and I assumed that I wouldn’t be traveling for a really, really long time.

I guess the pandemic changed my outlook on a lot of things, and I just expected that I wouldn’t be able to do anything I planned to do before the pandemic. I’m starting to accept the new normal, and understand that I’m not in a holding pattern - this is my life now (and for the foreseeable future). This is all a very long-winded way of saying that I’m surprised to have crossed another state off of my list this week. My goal wasn’t as unattainable as I thought it was.

I’ve been spending a lot of time in nature. I don’t feel balanced unless I’ve had a chance to walk in the woods or felt the wind in my hair (I know, I’m becoming that girl). Luckily, I have like-minded friends. Christine, Kaitlin, and I planned to hike in Shenandoah. I fantasized about bringing my Patagonia Better Sweater out for the season (seriously, I’d be great at sponsored content). I was ready. Instead of heading to Shenandoah, we decided to head to Harpers Ferry at the very last minute - literally, we made the decision in the car.

The spontaneous decision worked in my favor - I had never been to West Virginia. We still experienced some crowds, and way too many cyclists without masks - don’t worry, I heckled the heck out of them. The further we walked, the more people we left behind, the closer we got to undisrupted peace. It was a perfect day.

The weather was cool, but not cold. The sun was warm, but not hot. We walked with no constraints, no limits (once we extended our parking). We walked onto some rocks that took us to the river bank, and we listened to the water. The sounds of the river washed away my “Sunday scaries.” The river was louder than my intrusive thoughts. I think we could have walked forever - if we didn’t forget our snacks in the car.

Harpers Ferry was exactly what I needed - what I wanted, without knowing what was waiting for me. Even so, I’m glad the country road took us home.

Philadelphia

A couple of weeks ago, Emily and Mena invited me to join their Philly weekend. It didn’t take much to convince me. I’m actually a big fan of the critically-acclaimed film, National Treasure. I was more than happy to take the same pilgrimage as Nicholas Cage after he stole the Declaration of Independence. Although we did not find treasure under an old church, my experience felt similarly priceless.

Mena (Philly resident), Emily and I began our gastrointestinal tour with Charlie was a Sinner - we sometimes refer to it as “Jack was a Ginger” or “Jeremiah was a Bullfrog.” I loved everything we tried, and felt that we had started the trip off right - even if we were eating dinner at 11pm. The next morning, we rescued Emily’s car from being towed. We made it out of Philly with only one parking ticket, which feels par for the course. After our brunch at Indebleu, we made our way to Boathouse Row.

Before I go on, you should know something about Emily. This girl has never met a stranger. She befriends everyone, everywhere and I’m constantly surprised that she hasn’t let the world jade her into changing. She inspires me to be kinder to strangers and to be present with them, until they are strangers no longer. This was my experience in Philadelphia, and we had perfectly delightful conversations with many people we came across.

Although I did not recreate the famous scene from Rocky on the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, I did get moderately winded climbing up the steps and felt a similar sense of euphoria at the top. Our next stop was a hunt for coffee (you know me at this point, right?). We went to the flagship La Colombe in Fishtown, and I loved it. I felt like I had designed the location, because it fit me perfectly. What I would have given to grab my journal and spend the rest of the day at a table in the corner - watching people and writing about nothing and everything. The draft latte at La Colombe is in my top three list of favorite coffee beverages, which doesn’t hurt either. After coffee, we wandered around Fishtown, where we found an antique shop with magic light. We put our name on the two-hour waitlist for Pizzeria Beddia, and made our way to Evil Genius Beer Company. We got lost in conversation and ended up sprinting to the pizza place so we didn’t lose our table. I’m glad that I decided to wear my running shoes instead of something less practical.

After pizza, we took a power nap with the intention of going out. We ended up staying in, and I’m happy to officially announce my retirement from going out past 11pm. Thank you to everyone who has supported my journey thus far. I’m really looking forward to this next stage of my life. In all honesty, I was happy to stay at home and talk to Mena and Emily, and laugh about silly things over a pint of ice cream. It felt like something out of nineties movie. I’ll remember thinking that conversation has never felt so easy.

The first thing Emily told me when she met me, was that I reminded her of her friend Mena. After meeting her for the first time last summer, I couldn’t help but agree. Our lives seemed to be on parallel tracks, and I can’t help but feel grateful that our lives have crossed. Mena, thank you for creating space in your life (and home) for our friendship. Thank you for guiding us through your city. Specifically, thank you for taking us to my new favorite place on earth - Cafe La Maude.

I’m going to spend too much time talking about this restaurant. Take a deep, centering breath, and don’t leave me just yet. It might just seem like a restaurant to most people, but we happened upon the most interesting man in Philadelphia. Gabi, part-owner, was the man who put our name on the list for a table. He was also the man who brought out our food, and the same man who walked along the restaurant with a baby while the family ate. I could have watched this man interact with the world for countless hours. While we were waiting for our table, we watched him greet people and dogs on the street. He seemed to know everyone by name - even the pups. He engaged us in conversation by exclaiming, “in my next life, I want to come back as a dog in Northern Liberties. They get treated so well here.” And honestly? Same.

I watched him greet a family in Arabic. Although I could only pick out a few words, he spoke with such fondness and affection that I found myself wishing I could dust off my rusty Arabic and join the conversation. I think I was inspired by Gabi, because he was so present in the space around him. He seemed so comfortable as himself. He was loud and expressive, and the space seemed to enclose around him to protect his spirit and energy. He radiated authenticity and joy.

I hope I can radiate authenticity and joy in the spaces I occupy, and that I could brighten every space by being myself - whoever that may be. If that doesn’t work out, I hope I’ll live my next life as a dog in Northern Liberties. I hear they get treated very well.

I’m sure I’ll be back to Philadelphia, we still have treasure to find.

Boston

Last week, I went on my first work trip of the year. In the past, I’ve been known to work too much and spend too much time on my laptop. This year, I’m determined to travel differently. I’m going to be present, and give myself a chance to prioritize people and places. What better place to start, than Boston?

Boston and I have a storied past. Needless to say, it’s complicated. I wasn’t sure what to expect from the city this time around, and especially not in January. I preemptively invested in Patagonia gear - partly because I’m frivolous, and partly because it packs well. On this trip, I tried to give myself as much grace as I could. I didn’t overbook myself with meetings. I didn’t travel in the middle of the night on the first flight in and last flight out. I stayed walking distance from the site of my training. I, under NO circumstances, would rent a car and be forced to experience whatever “rotary” of hell Boston roads belonged in.

On my first day, I dropped off my bags and started with a latte (my love language). I ended up walking through the Boston Commons, and naturally gravitated towards the state house. Fun fact about me, I’m a sucker for a good state house. I didn’t take a lot of photos this trip, but I couldn’t help but grab my camera to grab a photo of the gilded dome in the first image. Something about the sun reflecting off the dome called to me, and I was in no position to decline the call.

Once I was done soaking up the sun and the state house, I walked to the Athenaeum, ready to sit down and respond to some emails. I discovered that it was closed to the public on Mondays. Channing, Boston resident and the recommend-er of the Athenaeum, described it best. “It’s hard to be elite and exclusive when the elite and exclusive are being elite and exclusive.” Poetic, really.

I recently read somewhere that happiness is not getting what you expected, but rather, having things go better than expected.

I didn’t mind missing out on the Athenaeum, because the best thing happened next. I got lost.

I can’t tell you the last time I got lost. I’m the person that relies on google maps more than my right hand. That day, I confidently walked to the wrong destination. Instead of going to the Boston Public Library, I walked to the Boston Public Market (opposite direction). Instead of being disappointed and blaming Boston for being hard to navigate (to add to our complicated narrative), I decided to be present and get even more lost. I put away my phone and google maps, and wandered around the North End. I went from side street to side street, marveling at the freedom of my feet. I had nowhere to go, no direction and no urgency guiding me. I ended up finding another coffee shop (I told you it was my brand). I responded to emails. I read the pre-reads for my training. I was able to write for the first time in a while. I was productive, because I was happy - my day had gone better than expected.

The rest of the trip followed the same theme. Things continued to go better than expected. I met with friends, colleagues, and former students. I met new people in my training, and I was inspired by their stories. I drank a lot of coffee. I learned, constantly - from my training and myself. My feet carried me with confidence. I got lost a couple more times (Boston really is hard to navigate). Don’t worry, I found my way eventually. Poetic, really.

I’m happy to have added this chapter to my Boston story. It almost makes up for all the parallel parking from the trip before.