Marooned on an Island pt.1 

I suppose we are all washed up on an island of our choosing. It is hard to let go of certain memories, and becomes easy to get carried away in the rip tide.

What started as a retreat to the familiar waters of the Caribbean, turned into the realization of a lifetime. I knew the basics of what I was signed up for – living off of the basics, basically. I’ve been running through life, unsure of the destination or why I feel the need to be anywhere but in the moment. It became clear that my past was catching up to me, and for once, I didn’t know how to push it back.

To understand where I am going, I must first acknowledge where I have been. Yet, my journey has been a puzzle, and for someone so strategic in the real world, I throw caution to the wind when it comes to navigating through big life decisions. The heart knows just as much as the mind during the process.

New York City.

I could argue it started many countries and cities before this one, however for the sake of time I will begin here.

New York was never on my mind. Ever. I was perfectly content living a simple life, one in which I could connect with nature and curiosity. I had just spent two magical years in small towns across New Zealand and wanted the extreme opposite to compare. I flopped between Chicago and New York, ultimately deciding I would like the subway system of the east coast. I’ll admit, at this point in my early twenties I was beyond repair looking for a place to retreat; a place where animosity knows every concrete corner and far worse souls than yourself congregate. Self-hatred does not reside in this G–forsaken megapolis. The city knows how to turn a blind eye to all your past wrongs, past hurts, and past dreams.

Like all things in life, irony quickly stumbled upon my temporary doorstep. I had just hopped off the plane, breathed the filthy air of the Port Authority Terminal and sighed with relief. There may not have been much to my name, but man did I have all the guts and guile to replace it. During this first month I was so fortunate as to live on the couch of a kind stranger, an immigrant who single-handedly made his way through University of Texas in Austin. We were comrades from the start, understanding that life does not always deal a good hand, and it takes a certain character to pick up the game so early. Everything was new, chaotic and simultaneously stimulating.

Days turned into weeks when I first heard the news. Yet something deep in my stomach knew months prior when I visited her in Italy. I couldn’t understand why I cried leaving her at the train station and brushed off the departure. The news of her death would come as a shock and foreshadow. I was alone, without a job, without a home, and so far away from anybody who knew me. The news of my best friend’s sudden passing became a cold awakening to the fleeting world we live in. I was numb for an unknown period of time, walking the crowded streets every night with black tear-stained cheeks. The city took me into her enormous, shallow arms and allowed me to shamelessly and aimlessly figure out the meaning of life. Lana Del Rey sang me through endless hours of hot water baths, one of the few things that calmed me. It became clear that I was losing grip of who I was, and who I came here to be.

Truth be told, the only people who reached out was my best friend, Phillip, and my father. Everyone else in my life was going through their own ordeals at this particular chapter. My father came as a shock, because for the first twenty years of my life, we were disconnected. It was only until I returned to America that I felt like I finally had a father who was there. Prior to this part of my life, I didn’t know the man who was around. He was quiet, strict, and taught his children how to fend for themselves. It was during my time in New Zealand that his life (along with all my siblings) changed drastically. My mom left him for traveling nursing, they sold our childhood house, and even put down the family dog, the latter two without my knowledge! It appeared a lot changed during my two years away, but one thing was clear, my father was so full of love for his children and we finally saw it.

Life has a way of closing and opening doors. While I lost a dear friend who can never be replaced, I found a new one in my father. I didn’t know it at the time, but he loved his children more than words could express and made a point to check in on me during the rough months ahead. I would later find out that his search engine had my blog as a favorite and all the years of silence didn’t matter because he was supporting from afar.

Seasons changed and I learned to cope with death, distracted by the harsh reality of living in such a fast city. Winter brought an indescribable, soft surrender; despite the struggle between bar and temp office jobs, I found peace in watching my first snow storm. The fragility of time allowed me to live each moment of exploration. Despite the setbacks and shortcomings, this was my city and she took me in when I didn’t have a home.

Congratulations, you suffered your way through this long introduction. Pat yourself on the back. You are free to carry on with your day. You are also welcome to carry on with this trilogy…

Fourteeners Poster

Digitally illustrated poster of the Colorado 14ers. Provides rank, height and distance in one neat visual that brings some funk to your space. Question is, are you ready to conquer them all? ❂ Percentage of sale goes toward the Colorado Fourteeners Initiative

✎29x12in. $50 Est. 2017 – these series are ever changing and reconstructing. Similar to the mountains we dwell in.

Hiaiiii from Hawaii 

If a friend invites you to their wedding in Hawaii, take the excuse and go.Throughout the many weeks trekking across South America, I can honestly say this was the real vacation (from our vacation). Everything for the week was booked, events were planned, and for the first time in months I had an agenda with familiar faces to share it with.

There is something to be said, or often left unsaid, about the people you leave behind.

I’m not talking about the single serving friends you meet on the road, as you are kindred spirits and will most likely wish the best through photos, never physically together again. No, I’m talking about the souls that see you through your dull drums, know your bad days well, and even give you more than companionship to see you through to your next adventure.

These are the people whom you meet “off the road”, which at first never made sense to me as life is a road and we are always traveling toward something. However this reunion of New York friends in Hawaii sent a surge of happiness as I quickly recalled the recent past. In some form or another, they helped me through my path to self-discovery. Seeing them almost half a year later, now that distance and time have fully set in, it all seems taken for granted.

I can recall a similar feeling when my kiwi friend so kindly brought me out to her wedding in Bali 4 years ago; this sweeping emotion of joy for another person. Not just any person, but one you have history with and can truly appreciate the impact of their change. It is so humbling to see loved ones dive into change, whether it be marriage, parenting (babies or puppies), or even quitting a job in search of something deeper.

We often take for granted all the beautiful people in our daily lives while dreaming about our future. These lost souls become apart of the routine which too takes its toll on us.

I guess what I’m saying is it takes meeting a bunch of new faces to realize you cherish the old faces left behind.

Anyway Hawaii is dope. Endless stretches of hikes, public deserted beaches, seat turtles the length of my torso, pods of fifty to a hundred spinner dolphins who will join your swim if you stop splashing and earn their respect, and the poke is almost better than ceviche.

Basically spent seven days in fifty shades of blue, and it still wasn’t even enough (it never is) to explore Oahu. Landed in Waikiki, soaked up sun and caught up with friends for 3 days, among which was my former CEO in New York who I just happened to bump into on the beach at 6am. After the wedding festivities spent two days on the North Shore, which I regret not spending more time in, as it had the best beaches. Finishing up with one day on the west shore and the last back in Waikiki for a nice hike on Koko Head Mountain. There are so many islands to hop and not enough time. I’m not going to dive too far into details on this one as I’m sure you will find your own unique calling here. This island is really one of a kind.

Mexico City

Got off the plane from Colombia and was greeted by the familiar smell of tacos.

Just kidding but Texas is so close I feel like I’m almost home. The five star hotel was an understatement to the $80USD paid. Safe to say at this point of the trip I was missing home, wherever it was to me anymore. There is only so much weight a body can carry, only so much last-minute booking one can do until it is no longer spontaneous, and more importantly only so much airplane middle seat arm wrestling one can do.

Needless to say Mexico City is beautiful. A lot of high end and low end shops that somehow just cohabit. They have an amazing resource of museums and archeological sites; so much that I’ve decided I will take a future long weekend trip here to focus on them.

The food was still as fresh as South America and we filled up on solid guacamole dip with margaritas. Our hostel was modern, renovated from an old castle. The rooftop pool is where we spent a decent amount of time soaking up the sun.

For such a short layover it was extremely relaxing and the perfect blend of Both North and South America. Viva la Mexico.

Quick detour to Hawaii, as I celebrate my friends destination wedding! Looking forward to seeing familiar faces and speaking english again.