The person on Twitter had quoted Vonnegut: “I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can’t see from the center.” Whenever I come across this quote, I’m reminded of Stephen Dunn’s essay on gambling in which he wrote:
Surely those folks who play their lives and their work eminently safe don’t often put themselves in the position where they can be startled or enlarged. Don’t put themselves near enough to the realm of the unknown where discovery resides, and joy has been rumored to appear. The realm of the unknown is contiguous with the realm of failure. The gambler, deep down, has made a pact with failure. He’ll accept it because it has interesting neighbors. In such realms the soul, I think, is fed, not to mention exercised.
Looking for that quote by Dunn, I was reminded of the post I had written a few years ago “Going All In.” I pinned it to the top of the blog because this concept of being closer to the edges, of being closer to the unknown, of positioning oneself to be startled and enlarged has come up a few times on my trip. In fact, if traveling around like I currently am can be said to have a “purpose,” it’s to spend time in places where discovery resides, it’s to feed, exercise, and startle the soul, it’s to find interesting neighbors.
In the larger sense, when asked what I’m hoping to find (in travel and in moving and in meeting people and in the next job), I usually say I’m not sure, I’m just trying to position myself to be pleasantly surprised. I want to live around and work with interesting, smart, and compassionate people. I eventually want a relationship that’s full of common surprises and everyday wonder (not drama, but mutual growth and understanding). I want experiences that can startle, challenge, teach, and humble.
I’m about to leave Charleston, SC today. The visit has been more than pleasant, the weather has been nice, and I’ve gotten a lot of walking in. Thursday I met up with a woman who has done long, nomad types of trips. we had a bite to eat and she shared some tips and recommendations. I spent Friday at the beach and Friday night I sat a beach bar talking with a woman who is hoping to get an Airstream with her husband and travel around the country for a year. She likes it here, but has had her fill. She’d like for them to eventually land in California. We talked about a lot of different things but spent a good bit our time talking about the pros and cons of drug use (psychedelics and Molly) – she’s a proponent and I’m a non-using skeptic. While there’s good research being done on the effects of psilocybin treatments for depression and anxiety, I’m wary of “the industry” turning treatments into profits, and I’m a proponent of trying to address the underlying societal causes of anxiety and depression. Why are Americans so stressed out, burned out, and depressed? Perhaps were I more medicated, I’d care less.
I booked an extra night in Charleston, because I had tentative plans to meet up with someone on Saturday (yesterday). We went out for coffee in the afternoon and walked around the city which turned into dinner and a heartfelt goodby with the sense that we might be missing out on something. We’ve agreed to grab breakfast this morning and visit a farmers’ market. I think we’re trying to figure out how to stay in touch or meet up again or keep this whatever it is we’ve stumbled into going in some way. I’m still processing the encounter – it felt like a kindred spirits type of meeting that neither of us know what to do with. I’ll likely have to concede (and celebrate) that life can be full of these wonderful yet brief encounters. More practice in letting go, more recognition in roads not taken, more appreciation for letting beauty grace our lives without having to own it or hold on too tightly to it. Magic works because it is a temporary suspension of reality and disbelief – it surprises, beguiles, and enchants. Were it commonplace, we might forget to notice it.
As for Charleston, it’s a beautiful and historic city with great access to the beach and a weekend party vibe. I love how walkable downtown is, but I could do without the party aspect. In this respect it reminds me of Nashville, Memphis, New Orleans, Atlantic City, and Vegas – basically any place where people flock to get drunk and let go for a weekend – though it has far more charm than AC and Vegas. It’s been a called a drinking town with a history problem. And I suppose every city has those same elements – Boston and Philly are known for their pubs and suds, San Diego is littered with great microbrews, and plenty of cities have their famed commercial strip lined with bars and clubs (Broadway, Beale, Bourbon, etc.)… the difference seems to be that in some of the bigger cities things (restaurants and cultural attractions) seem to be blended in better with the neighborhoods or more spread out throughout the city.
I don’t have a concluding sentence or sentiment. The experience can’t be easily summed up other than with a deep sense of gratitude and an appreciation for venturing into the unknown where joy has been rumored to appear.