brian is the last unicorn, part one.

i decided it's too exhausting to remain in the mindset of "traveling", so i am just switching back to living. i started a new job yesterday, cooking at a cafe in bocas. farm life was growing and theraputic for as long as it lasted, but i have learned too much about self and others to convince myself to stay in an environment where love is not first. not to knock punta mona or anything it is striving to offer people coming through there. that place accepted me and sustained me without hesitation, but i think i am better off governing myself at this point. jacq left today to start her internship there. we are flying to bogota on the 29th of february. after that we begin our slow trek south, hopefully intersecting with bethany in guayaquil, both extremely excited for cusco, and i not-so-secretly have my heart set on buenos aires. eventually. but for now, i get to cook eggs a few mornings a week, paint lots of signs, and spread wings. my relationship with the rastas here has been healed, now that i am not dating one. i'm sorry, did i say dating? i meant something along the lines of being spiritually opressed. so these guys are opening my mind back up to pure living in the middle of society, rather than just a secluded jungle setting. it should be interesting finding the balance between bustling around, keeping my yoga practice, and remembering to leave and find nature often. i feel like i have re-discovered what friendship and giving means. in quest for truth, i am faced with the undeniable notion that people need people, and asking & exchanging is part of life; it has to be. that communal need/give pendulum, if underlined with love and honesty, takes us so much farther than if we try to do it ourselves. and it can exist everywhere. that being said, i am so fucking thankful for my friends i have in bocas. this is very much like a homecoming for me and it feels good to be able to give back this time. something is compelling me to shed a lot of the selfishness i've aquired. and holy shit it's a lot to be honest with you. somewhere among the different women i communed with at the farm and the words that soaked into my young brain in front of padi's house--my teacher's house--staring at the same sea every time and the books i've started reading (thank god), something has started to click. and there's not much left to fear. am i redundant in these blog posts? i half-heartedly apologize for my lack of anything other than earth child analogies about feelings and the unseen. i'll be funny as soon as i can, promise!