People of the Bridge

I heard that every cell in your body completely regenerates every seven years. That means that after only seven years you will have completely become something new. It also means that whatever it was that we used to be has been completely eliminated as the natural courses of our bodies endure this process. This is a curious thought. What was I like seven years ago? Man, I hardly even remember. It’s also curious how we hold on to our memories like story books and although we may change some things at times they are still the foundations of our lives. In the fabrics of our cells you will find every scar of history and every invisible mark of separation from the rest of the world.

So seven years ago.. Let me think about this a little bit. I was eighteen and freshly graduated from high school. My fondest memory was of the long road trip I took to Savannah. I could tell the entire story as if it were a book. I’ll never forget waking up everyday somewhere new and being in the company of strangers; strangers with advice. I used to believe that every stranger who has a conversation with you was no coincidence but rather a bearer of an important message. Sometimes it would be easy to read but others I would have to pry into and find the meaning of our chance encounter. I have a small list of random advice from strangers whose names I cannot remember:

-Laugh loud and often

-Go barefoot in the spring

-You can run forever and never go anywhere

-Home is where the heart is.. right inside of you

If this advice has buried itself inside of my cells it would be a shame for it to have destroyed itself. Perhaps with the regeneration of new cells comes new advice and new experience. It’s a strange world I’ve fallen into. I’ve given much thought to whether or not I’m in my natural element out here. I’m a city boy. I’m proud of where I come from and I speak of Detroit with a big smile. That city has spawned some of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met and I miss the hell out of them. Their memories are entangled in my fibers and I take them everywhere I go.. and I’m going far. This is just the beginning.

I got super depressed the other night. It was uncalled for and I shouldn’t have let it get the best of me but the impending absence of someone very dear to me left me in shambles. I walked the long way home and found myself making pathetic looking faces at those who I passed by. This brought me a bridge very close to the Peace Corps office. I paused at the sound of a guitar being played from below and decided it would be in my best interest to follow the music to its source. Below the bridge I found perhaps seven Samoan guys singing songs and drinking themselves merry. They invited me over and before I could utter a word they put the guitar in my hands and told me to play. Rivers of Babylon floated out of me without giving much thought and nobody sat in silence. They knew every word and their enthusiasm made me happy. They gave me beer and advice of their own. It started to rain. They took shelter under the bridge but I slipped out without saying goodbye. I wore the smile they gave me for the rest of the night.

Deep breath.. I used to think I was going a little nuts out here. I don’t believe this anymore. Something started changing inside of me the moment I arrived to Los Angeles last year. I have to be an advocate for a second and recommend Peace Corps or something of the like to everyone. It really is the most adventurous thing I’ve ever done and uprooting your life causes you to regenerate like a cell and the experience brings your true self to the surface. People can say what they will about how things go down out here but I love it. I don’t think I’m going nuts – I think the peeling away of different layers has made me uneasy at times but I’ve grown to like it. I smile and stare at the space between my hands and today I feel like an empty canvas onto which I can paint anything I like.

Kait.. If I’m that passing stranger with esoteric advice and bits of information from my travels let it be that I wish upon you also the happiness of living like an empty canvas. That gem in your eyes is bound to see faraway lands and otherworldly fantasticness. I’d tell you to be bold but you took the words right out of my mouth.