The Meaning of It All

Paris, France

The last day of my trip couldn't have been more perfect. I will try to express in words what can truly only be felt and never accurately described. After arriving in Paris and retrieving my bag, I wandered around the airport for about two hours. However this wandering was not fearful and foreign, it was confident and comfortable, even though I was lost. I passed the area where I first wandered just over three months ago trying to act like I knew where I was going so potential pickpockets and thieves wouldn't target me. This time it was familiar and I knew there was no threat whatsoever, except maybe that of waiting for 25 minutes for the lady at the ticket counter to even acknowledge that there was someone else waiting to be helped. I practiced abundance and paid the fifteen Euros to leave my beastly backpack at the terminal overnight. Then I made my way back down the same corridors to the metro area where I purchased my tickets and boarded the train. It was cold and cozy as we sped along the countryside into the city. I put on my zilaba and I slipped in and out of sleepyland. I must admit I'm pretty close to making another trip to sleepyland pretty soon here. Anyway... I changed trains, heading in the direction of Rambuteau. I videotaped a boy walking slowly with his head in a book as the crowds bustled past him. I climbed the stairs to the chilly, near-dusk air outside. I entered the building of Dick Ahearne, the man with whom I stayed during my first days in Paris. We exchanged a few words, as well as the shirt he leant me for a bag of unnecessary belongings I had left behind. After wishing each other happy holidays and safe travels, I headed down to the bakery that I frequented when I stayed with Dick. I purchased my favorite, two sweet, chocolate-filled, powder sugar-covered pastries. In front of the Hotel de Ville, an ice-skating rink had been erected and people of all different skill levels skated around. I shot video and pictures of the large Christmas tree in front of the Notre Dame, as well as the dead trees lining the banks of the river. At this point my toes were feeling like they could fall off at any moment due to frostbite, and I'm not exaggerating. I went inside a nearby cafe and drank the familiar bitter and refreshingly hot coffee while journaling. I reflected on my trip and the growth and changes I've experienced. I will identify those things later. One thing I will mention now, though, is that I started writing all the things I was excited about: seeing my family for the holidays, making my short film when I return to LA, travelling with Ally, etc. And then I wrote that I was excited to meet up with my couchsurfing host and have dinner with him. Writing that brought me back to the moment. I was instantly flooded with joy and my eyes welled up with tears. I was there, journaling in a warm little cafe in Paris in December. I felt the awesomeness of life. After paying my bill, warming up my feet with the automatic hand dryer in the bathroom, and donning another pair of socks, I set off into the cold, crisp night. Finally I reached the place, Port Royal, where I was to meet my couchsurfing host Jerome. There was a young man standing near a bicycle writing on a notepad and an older man with glasses talking on a cell phone inside the housing of the metro stairwell. I was meeting a young man with glasses, according to the photographs from his profile. I made eye contact with the young man a couple times and was curious what he was writing. I tried to get a peek, but it was too small. I stood listening to my ipod until about seven minutes after the designated meeting time. I began searching through my bag for his phone number. Then I looked up at the young man and mouthed, inquisitively, "Jerome?" Momentarily puzzled, he said yes and then instantly realized I was me. He had had eye surgery and no longer wears glasses, and I was decked out in a zilaba, a beard (which wasn't in my profile picture), and I didn't have a large backpack with me. I laughed for a good while about that; there we both stood for ten minutes occasionally looking at each other while we waited for each other. After dropping my bags in Jerome's place, I was impressed to see that his walls are covered in paintings and photographs that he has created from things he's seen and experienced during his travels. It inspired me. He leant me a coat, as I didn't want him to have to endure the stares at my zilaba, and we headed over to the Cinema District. We ate duck confit, my selection, at a smokey little joint with cool popular music that was played a little louder than desirable. At some point I began talking about how all the people in that room were there, sharing the same moment, and yet they would be gone from our lives in a couple hours. I also mentioned how everything was so temporary; the group of friends could be dissipated in five years with one dead from a drug overdose and another married with a child, or the Chinese-caucasian interracial couple could be split up and in a relationship with someone else a month from now. And thirdly, I commented on how each person had his or her life which consisted of thousands of stories and experiences and that I would never get to know any of them. They were all random thoughts that came to me and I felt like sharing them. In fact, I didn't even think about it, they just came out. Well it spawned a two and a half hour deep conversation about living in the moment, breaking free from ego-self, and acceptance. It was awesome. As we were speaking about being present in the moment, I made every effort to bring myself back to what he was saying when little, fluttering thoughts tried to carry me away. I felt that I was rather successful and it wasn't too difficult. Eventually we came back to the apartment. We talked for a bit more, I showered, and then he asked me to speak for twenty seconds about what I see out my window at home, while his camera simultaneously recorded the western portion of the U.S. on a small, transparent, inflatable globe. Afterward he showed me a blog that he keeps with different random montages, photos, and graphics that he has posted, as he creates one every day. I was so excited. It was such an inspiration to see the work he's done. He said that he tries new things and he doesn't always like them, but the important thing is to do. I like that philosophy. Jerome is a really cool guy and I'm seriously tempted to move to Paris at some point in the future to hang out with him and potentially collaborate on art projects. This last couchsurfing experience on the last night of my trip is the epitomy of what travelling is about, for me. I have met and connected with such beautiful people. I've been given the opportunity to share my beliefs and discover those of others. I can't say how grateful I am for Couchsurfing and everyone that I have gotten to know over the past three months. I have made some friends that I will probably have for the rest of my life.


I am sure that there are changes in me that I may not be aware of until my family and friends point them out. However, there have been some opportunities for growth of which I am well aware and grateful. The first thing that comes to mind is my increased sense of self-confidence. As I have been having to make all my own decisions for the past three months, I have come to accept that I know what I want and that realistically there is no wrong choice. I feel comfortable deciding where I'm going, what I'm doing, or even the little things like what I want to eat or wear. I have also become significantly more accepting. I am now very accepting of others; I can discern whether I want to practice a certain behavior or not, but I no longer judge those who behave in a way that I do not. Additionally, I have a lot more acceptance for circumstances. While there may still be an inital slight irritation at a bus being delayed or something, I release it rather quickly. And along the same line, I have released attachment to possessions. On a couple of occasions, I had lost certain items which I valued, and I accepted that they were gone while being grateful for the time I had with them.
As evidenced by this evening, I feel that I stay connected to the moment more often. While I still get distracted by meaningless thoughts, it is easier to come back to the present and enjoy it. I've realized that I can be experiencing some intense fear or other uncomfortable emotions and it's not the end of the world. I'm not going to die. I can just feel the feeling and keep going. Similarly is the whole "fear of lack" situation. I have had the opportunities to practice abundance and generosity in my life, even when the fear is pushing very hard to keep me from doing it. I know now that the solution is opposite action. Even if I think that it is logic or rationality that is convincing me, I simply take action anyway. My thoughts only have the power that I give them and I choose to no longer humor fear-based thoughts.

I can't say how grateful I am for this whole adventure: the people I've met, the cities I've explored, the foods I've tasted, the languages I've spoken, the laughs and the tears, the music, pictures and video, the beds I've slept in, the pastries I've eaten, the hugs I've given, the songs I've sung, and the treasures I've acquired. It really has been the trip of a lifetime.

To you, the reader: I am very happy that I could share it with you. I hope it has provided you a glimpse into the life I have lead for the past 97 days across ten countries (including Monaco) and three pairs of underwear.