Humans are an interesting breed. On the adventure thus far, from Belize City, to Caye Caulker, Flores, Rio Dulce, Livingston, and now Poptun, I’ve come across much diversity, yet so much similarity.
Each area I travel into unfailingly reveals new bits of insight, not only into the nature of a world that is becoming more closely connected every waking second through technological advancement, but also into my own egoic fears and prejudices.
Here in Guatemala, I’ve encountered people who greet me warmly, and people who look at me like Hitler walking into a synagogue. There are those who are empathetic of my minimal communication skillset, and others who ignore my attempts at discourse like fungus under their toenails. Some who make eye-contact, but many more who stare vacuously into space, fixated upon whatever important agenda might currently be guiding their actions.
There’s something about stepping into a body of warm, salty water that makes a day worth living for.
Though this Caribbean-side beach is little more than a narrow strip fronting the occasional “hotel,” abandoned property, or humble homestead, I take immense pleasure from having walked its 6 km stretch to a miniature waterfall-pond that marked the end of its briny trail.
There doesn’t seem to be a lot of swimming done here by the locals. Actually, none that I’ve seen. But that’s a common product of taking environment for granted, no matter where you are in the world. It’s easy to formulate the thought, “Fuck, if I lived here, I’d be in the water everyday.” But I’m just a visitor, and if I grew up here, I’d probably be just as apathetic of this glorious gift as anyone else trying to scratch a living in town.
I’ve lost track of time. I don’t know what day it is, and I don’t really care. What I need to do right now is get the fuck away from this mess.
Living on the water feels more right to me than anything I can imagine, but I can’t do it with these retards. The “captain” doesn’t have much inclination to sail his own boat, let alone impart expertise on others. He seems more concerned with ramming every available inch of space with Workaway volunteers to fund his supply of food and broken parts. His “suggestion” to contribute a few bucks daily turned out to be more of a rule. When I realized I ate a third of what everyone else was eating at mealtime, with no say in the offerings, I decided it might be time to make a move before the shore slipped away.
Life seems far more interesting when you step beyond your comfort zone — when you’re doing crazy shit, and feel like at any moment you might freak out. That sums up this adventure so far. I have no idea what each day’s gonna bring, but I’m lovin’ every second of it.
I didn’t share any of my game-plan last post, so let me fill you in on the agenda, if you could call it that…
Next stops: Toronto, Houston, and the jungles of Central America.
Since I have a ton of time on my hands between flights, I may as well play dear diary for a while, though I can’t promise the ramble will be meaningful. Nah, that’s not true, I always find something amusing or irritating to share. Let’s see what unfolds…
First leg, London to Toronto. Check-in was quick and painless. My carry-on glided effortlessly through the X-ray machine, and I did the same through the the metal detector, without a single asshole giving me attitude or grief, or enforcing full body irradiation. Thumbs up to Canada. But be warned, if you have future air travel planned, and haven’t been through the process in a while, I would highly recommend boning up on the endless nonsensical rules that are currently in place before you check your backpack or luggage into Big Brother’s cargo hold.
That’s a quote attributed to weirdo Eastern philosopher Lao Tzu, and it’s pretty fucking bang on.
You may say that quitting thinking is an impossible and impractical concept, and you might be right. But let’s consider that every issue we feel tormented by is ultimately self-inflicted, all of it an emotional by-product of thoughts generated by insecure egos, social conditioning, unsubstantiated conjecture, speculation, assumption, presumptions, and other umptions. The stress, grief, or pain is usually the result of a woe-is-me perception.
Once we stop obsessing over whatever nonsense that has us in a tizzy, the stress, grief, and pain go away. It doesn’t take much effort to prove this hypothesis. Take a deep breath, drop your thoughts, and you’ll realize a few seconds of peace. The longer you can extend this “thoughtless time,” the more relaxed you’ll become.