Sometimes, nothing can be predicted. I'm willing to accept that. I'm more than willing to admit that. There are many people who would like to think otherwise. "Head in the clouds" are my thoughts to those types. Recalling a time when I was much more active on social media, I would post about this idea of accepting the idea of "No Control". Without intention, I would conjure anger and reluctance of peers who had much more structured lives. I just wanted to talk about how random events are simply not predictable.
The idea that ANYONE has ANYTHING figured out in their lives is somewhat laughable to me. The idea that having some 9-5, 401k, benefits, PTO and salary is some sort of "point of breakthrough" or reaching some level of unbreakable "stability" is pretty crazy to me. Any business can go under overnight. Anyone can have their house broken into, car stolen, or have a surprise/unexpected turn of events. No level of stability will prevent any of these things from happening.
Most of these things aren't totally huge. Insurance may cover some of these losses. But other things in life have no protection plans, loss of friends, family, perhaps you lost your job and your car breaks down and rent is due... That happened just about a year ago. You just simply can't plan ahead for some of these things, even if you try to prepare by saving as much as you can, working as hard as you can, there is still no guarantee that any preparations are "enough".
About this time last year, I had been out of work for 2 months, my car had hardly moved because I had a gas leak that would have taken $30 to fix, but I couldn't get the money together at all. I had been starving myself and not telling anyone. I had closed myself in my room which I rented and hid from the world outside. My roommates were racist/used racist language in the house and around me, which made it difficult for me to want to get out and do anything. My landlord refused to make any actionable efforts towards creating a safer place for me, and I moved in BEFORE any of these other tenants. But because I had no ability to pay my rent, they showed no care towards providing a safe place for me to live, work and try to earn my way out of the rut that I had fallen into. One roommate in particular had become more and more aggressive and began drinking heavily and swearing/being loud almost every night. I closed myself in even more.
April last year, I moved out. My car was dangerous to drive, I had to move to my moms on the Vermont border. I became more isolated. The internet was not great and most of the work that I COULD try to do was online, furthering my inability to do anything. I sold my car after having paid insurance on it for two months, wasting more of my money. This was the beginning of a steep decline.
I found out that an old friend had passed away on a solo hiking trip. I got back into a relationship with my partner at the time. I landed a few photo gigs. I applied for food-stamps. There was not much going on, but I was trying to move forward. I owed my old landlords money for back-rent, and tried to work off some of the money through days on the river.
The fact that I had felt so unsafe in the home that I couldn't even function/sleep, made me reluctant to feel any obligation to paying them back. Then, one day the money that I owed was brought up in front of customers and their employees. I felt even more uncomfortable about that than anything. It was not only aggressive, it was extremely inappropriate in a workplace to bring up my debts in front of paying patrons and employees who had no reason to know my business. I had worked very hard to not have to deal with this type of abusive behavior in a workplace. I stopped offering my time to them and committed to finding a way to make money with my business and attempt to pay them back.
Throughout last summer, I landed a number of pretty cool gigs. Working for Artists, musicians, and businesses. I filmed my first wedding and later in the early fall, did another, (with the help of my partner at the time). She had begun her journey in selling art/jewelry, and I had helped her with starting a website, taking product photos and showing up to every event that I could. All volunteer, no request of pay. I showed interest in these ventures in every way that I could, while also trying to focus on building my own business. I still did not have a car or financial stability of a regular job, which also was because I did not have a car... Again, a bad cycle, but I was trying to get my own freedom. Every time I got a check however, my mom would tell me I owed her some money for something. Or I'd be asked to pitch in towards one thing or another before I could get on my feet.
Getting out of this cycle did not happen entirely through my business and working. I got very lucky, in a weird way. In late fall, things were quite literally falling apart. My mom had gone to Florida to do hurricane damage assessment work with her boyfriend, (who I did not get along with or like in any setting or time). I stayed in home and watched her dog, kept the house warm, stacked and split wood, cleared the fallen leaves... etc, etc. Most house sitting gig's I have been offered some sort of pay. And most dog/animal care gig's, I have also been offered MORE pay. It's just what you do. She returned, and I was disappointed. Left with hardly anything but a "thank you". This wasn't the first time I did something like this, and got less than I was promised.
Living in the shed was cramped. Living amongst my belongings, and 3 past tenants belongings, I attempted to grow some weed and hoped to be able to just smoke it and save money. My friend's kept telling me to sell it so I could get out of the negative bank balance. Perhaps I could buy a shit-box car, and get a regular job until I was on my feet. I am really over the idea that black people should have to resort to illegal activities to get by... Especially as cliché ones as selling weed. Too many people get away with Tax fraud and money laundering...
In the long run, I gave away some to friends as gifts, noting that they probably had smoked me up that much and I never was able to return the favor. I smoked a lot with my partner, and tried to just give her some whenever I could because she'd come pick me up and we'd drive around and she'd feed me... Knowing I was not taking care of myself. And before I knew it... I was out of my entire harvest in the middle of December. I had calculated that I would have been able to smoke it until March, if I was able to keep it to myself and share less.
Nothing was working. Everything I saved would eventually go to debts. Everything I earned was immediately spent on fulfilling immediate needs. I was not getting anywhere. Meanwhile, my partner at the time and I were looking for apartments to hopefully get a fresh start and try living together in a new place. I had tried moving in with her, but it didn't work out. Her systems had been in place, and my routines of doing dishes by hand, or just having to move things in order to get my work done was too much of a change for the both of us. We tried, but it really did not work... A couple times.
Around the same time my buddy Zeek had been released from Rikers. He came home to Shelburne, apparently damaged a vehicle, hid from police in someone's house and then was thrown back in the local jail. To give you some context, this was a friend who had spent 14 years or so on the road. Hitchhiking, exploring and spreading his beliefs on the infinite, the power of love and healing the world. "Transient" doesn't do justice, in fact it's almost insulting if you ask me. I used to liken him to a Roaming Sage. We met in Kindergarten or 1st grade. We were brothers, not by blood. Many people had given up on helping Zeek over time. He'd often call me and leave a semi-cryptic message from California, Texas, Kansas, New Mexico, Virginia... Denver, Maine...
"Hey man, uhhh yeah so I was just hanging out by this coffee shop and I thought I saw a guy who looked like you so I thought I should call. I bummed a cigarette from him and he was like kinda not who I thought he was when I saw who he was. He just wasn't like actually who he looked like. Anyway, so I think I need to get outta here just cause it's not like what I want right now and was curious if you could call me back. I borrowed the phone at this coffee shop that I saw the guy at, it's uhm... - hey what's the name of this place?".
A small voice in the background begins, "The Tin-",
"-WELL you have the number probably on your phone anyway, I should probably go, I think they had like 3 calls for orders and I just kept talking so I probably should give the phone back. Call me and leave a message for me and they said I could come back and use the phone during business hours. And yeah so I was just curious if you could buy me a ticket to Boston. Alright, Love you."
Sometimes it was much more frantic. Clearly on the comedown or come-up of some altered state. Sometimes cursing at me and cursing my existence. A week later, he'd call to apologize, always sincerely. We would then talk about love and the idea of healing the world, creating sustainable societies...
Zeek would show up in town randomly and call me from his moms, godmothers or someone else's house. He'd ask if we could hang out, smoke weed, listen to music. I'd always say yes. I'd give him a place to stay if he needed one, and we'd often split a beer, some smokes, and share conversation. If I could, I'd send him off with a care package of non-perishables, a couple extra bucks and a handful of rolling papers, tobacco and weed. He was an intellectual, regardless if you gave him time for you to find out. He was loving and caring, even if you experienced his fits of anger. But many people had stopped giving him the time of day after the first bad interaction with Zeek.
This time was different. I sensed that I might not actually see him this time if he got out. Thinking that he may get thrown back in before I got to see him, or he may hit the road to the west.
I still didn't have a car. Visitation was tough to schedule. He would be thrown in the hole for exploding on the phone at me and calling me the N word and transferred to the Psych unit. Threats to me or my family were thrown out at random, he seemed to be someone else. Entirely unrecognizable.
This wasn't Zeek. Zeek was kind. If it was him, he was scared and hiding somewhere in the torment of his own mind. He had been on the run from himself for a while it seemed to me. The demons of the road, hot on his tail.
I had nothing going on still, he would call... I would pick up. It was late October, I had blown through half of the money I had saved up from photo-gigs just in minutes through the Jail phone. Zeek was probably spending 3 hours each day on the phone. It was draining me, mentally and financially. I still had no income.
He got released sometime in November. I got a call from a Worcester phone number. He was mad at me for something, saying that I hadn't done all that I could to help him. Claiming I didn't call the people that he asked me to call. I did everything I could, and wasn't even feeding myself so I could save the rest of the money that I had to my name. He had no clue.
A month prior, our Godmothers' husband had passed away, 2 days before my birthday. Zeek died two months later, almost exactly. My partner at the time and I had finally found a place and moved in, late November. My Godmother helped me out by giving me money to get a car, register it, insure it, put snow tires on it and helped me with some camera gear as well. It was hard to accept the help, because I was not used to being given so much. I struggle with accepting gifts because I grew up with having to earn and save my way to most of my goals, whereas many of my peers have been given a lot towards their goals.
Many days, I cried just from simple beauties and small things. Driving my car somewhere, I'd feel so lucky to have wheels moving and gears turning. Gratitude would wash over me and engulf my entire being, while grieving the loss of two incredibly important people in my life.
My Godfather Richard was always ready to listen and have conversation about the views of my peers. Relating to me in the idea that people just don't get it sometimes, regardless of color, background, or anything... Some things just don't get taught to people. He'd reflect on his experience in a largely Black community as a White man, being the outsider, but being welcomed and accepted genuinely. He fought for representation, due punishment for wrongdoers and racists. He worked in many positions where he helped others. But he didn't take excuses, or make excuses. He loved Zeek, but he hated the reality that Zeek faced. The struggles of addiction and facing your problems was one thing that Richard wished Zeek would be able to confront and conquer.
December: This is where things changed. Very Fast.
I rented a u-haul for my partner at the time and helped her pack up her belongings and moved in a single day... Mostly. She delayed on a few things and took her time about finalizing the move. That was not something I was used to. Every time I have had to move I did it in a day, maybe two. I still wasn't working any consistent gigs, but signed up for Doordash and started making some cash here and there. We had come to an agreement about me not paying rent for the first month. And just before the end of the first month my brake lines blew out.
I was still grieving the loss of two people, and then found out a distant family member passed away, and then I was being asked to pay rent, fix my brakes, and be everything I could be for everyone who needed me... When I was going through all of this on my own. My partner at the time and I began arguing almost day. I would be yelled at for cooking breakfast or for cleaning the dishes. I couldn't handle it. We couldn't get back to peace. It ended very quickly.
I stayed with my friends parents after the breakup. I had been planning a road trip, but did not think that it was going to go well whatsoever if I was still with her. Getting freedom and peace to be alone was hard enough. I couldn't imagine getting freedom and peace to be alone on the road for 2 months.
I don't need or want to talk negatively, or put blame on anyone. But the reality of the experience that I had... was traumatic. December was one of the hardest months of my life. And I had no freedom to process or grieve. Support was there, but understanding and patience was not. With the car, I had freedom to leave in the heat of a moment. And I would. Many times I would wake up with frost on the inside of the windshield, sun coming up and dozens of missed calls, texts and pain in my neck. Another night in the car, in the middle of the winter. I did not feel safe at home anymore. I was the villain for leaving. It was seen as abandonment. All I needed was understanding and patience.
The move out of my partners place was swift. A single day, with a few items that were straying behind with the dispute of who owned it. All went back to my moms place, where it had been just 40 days prior... I had enough of this moving back and forth. I could not keep doing this. That same night, my mom and I got into a physical scuffle. She jumped on me after I blindly threw a cardboard cylinder from my car in frustration as she yelled at me... Assuming I had done something wrong after she told me to move her truck. I still hadn't processed any grief and was dealing with extremely stressful environments. I was ready to just curl up and die.
Risking my life, I packed my car again and drove down from Vermont with no brakes, in slush and snow. Where I would sleep that night? I didn't even know. The slope just got steeper, and gravity pulled me down faster and faster.
My friend's family who helped me get out to Colorado the first time, (Michael and Janice), were there for my fall. They knew my struggle. They love my mother, but they know that my childhood had a negative effect on my adulthood and ability to make forward/upward movement. Though my connections were countless and valuable, sometimes they didn't seem to share the idea of mutual wellbeing. Often I would question if I made up scenarios where I would have helped these people if they were in need, and I was able to provide any help... These people, they helped me. They helped my mother. They genuinely wanted us to be able to live, thrive and grow.
Even our own family didn't show the same levels of support that we received from Michael and Janice. I definitely had never been given the support from direct family that I had been given from Les, my godmother. I believe that most people deserve support from family, or community. Being a productive member of a community, being an active member, that's all that is required in my mind.
The following month, January up to the second week of February, I stayed with Michael and Janice. They helped me plan and get my things together. They gave me things to contribute to the household such as keeping the wood stove going, filling the woodbox, letting the dogs out and doing the dishes from time to time.
While I was able to finally take some time and breathe, recollect, and plan for a new adventure... I was in the whirlwind still of being contacted by my ex partner, over something random always. "Do you want this shower brush?", "You got some mail", "You left this ______".
- I just wanted to move on.
I lost many friends over this person. They'd remind me of the times I would call them, crying. Asking for a place to stay, in the middle of the night. Reminding me of the time she publicly accused me of putting my hands on her, even though the truth was that I had been cornered in a room, and went to run out of the room and she jumped in front of me. Arms spread from one side of the door frame to the other. I leaned forward to get out of her apartment, rushing outside to get freedom from the cage I was being held in. This was before I was "allowed" to leave if the situation was getting worse. Most of my friends wouldn't even speak to me anymore. I let this all happen to myself, I was the only one to blame.
I promised myself that I would stay single. Focus on my business. Keep my head forward and on the path that I set ahead of myself. This road trip would be all I needed to reset.
I could not have planned the next thing to happen. Maddie came into my life and took me by complete surprise. We had crossed paths, and potentially met in multiple occasions. We both attended Greenfield Community College in the same timeframe, worked on the river as raft guides, knew many of the same people, and went to a lot of the same places. We both had been on other wavelengths. But our frequency was bound to find resonance apparently.
I never thought I would say this, but it's become a running joke now. "We met on bumble." She had to message me first, which honestly has hardly ever happened whenever I've given the online dating scene a "try", out of total desperation for a new face and name. This time, I wasn't even trying... I had totally given up and expected nothing. It was almost a joke that I was spending time thinking of meeting anyone new.
(below: My Bumble Bio was quite literally a joke.)
Maddie knew she had seen me before. Her first message was bold, direct and engaging. It was clear that she had much more traveling under her belt than I had, which I always took as a good sign, but a sign that I might not meet their desires. Or maybe not be as free to travel, adventure and see the world... She was eloquent and understanding. Patience, I didn't even have to ask for. Communication, it was effortless. Even the hard conversations ended as easily as they came up. It was foreign to me, not arguing... I almost felt like I was being deceived. I couldn't do anything but lean into the universe and trust it as I fell in love.
In just two weeks, we went from not knowing each other, to spending nearly 10 days out of 14 together... Before I left for my road trip. We made a plan to meet up in the middle of my trip, about a month after departure. I would have potentially gone from Massachusetts to California and back to Colorado. Stopping in Niagara Falls, Ohio, Chicago, St. Paul, Denver, Taos, Salt Lake City, Grand Canyon, Joshua Tree and a few more. Most of those stops happened. Skipping Grand Canyon and Joshua Tree and Arizona entirely.
I really didn't know how well this would go... I could not have predicted the freedom and patience and support that I was given from Maddie. I was not prepared for the love and genuine care that she showered me with. When she saw my goggles were falling apart, she demanded that I take her extra set. When I expressed my feelings of insignificance, she reassured me that my love was enough. I was given time to express myself and take time to understand my grief.
We went skiing, saw a concert, showed each other off to our friends and introduced each other to people who were important to us. We suffocated each other in love, but only in the healthiest way. Never being too overbearing, always giving each other time to answer and not feel rushed to reply. I had really never felt so... happy.
I went from crying in the mixture of sadness and gratitude and grief, to crying simply from the beauty and glory of life and the world around me. Things changed almost overnight. I would never have guessed that it could. I went from being shamed for having emotional reactions to abusive situations, to being told to take time to breathe and heal, in the most supportive way possible. In no way am I comparing anything, I just really had no belief that life could change so positively, so quickly.
The same week that I would have been leaving on my road trip, I met the love of my life. She kicks my ass on skis, smokes bigger joints than me, and puts me onto new music, or old artists that I forgot about. We have long conversations and interruptions are minimal. We listen through the hard parts where ego gets involved. It's just something so new and beautiful. I would have left on the 6th of February or something, but delayed my departure for a week. In that week, I met so many people, tried so many new things with my business and did some really cool work with other artists and people in the area. Things I would not have always had the freedom to do. Just a few days before I left... I got an email saying that I was accepted for a Grant for my business.
The final week before departure I found out that I had a bent rim which was causing a vibration in the steering wheel. I couldn't imagine 11,000+ miles on the road with that potentially worsening or causing further issues. I had taken all of my time getting ready for this trip, and the last day before I left, of course I would have one more hurdle. After taking time to accept the cost, and think of the benefits of having the other rims on... I bit the bullet and did the swap.
Loaded up, and ready to head out on a new journey, I left Massachusetts to go see the world that was waiting for me. The most unexpected turn of events... Life was getting better, the first time in years. With new horizons, new love and new hope, I set out to go reconnect with someone who I call my brother, and to spend the weekend in Brooklyn with him and his fiancé.
Writing from a Tire shop in Castle Pines, CO. I went skiing yesterday with my girlfriends family and that was after we had a tire blow out entirely on I-70. The Most unexpected turn of events continues and continues. Four new tires are being put on now, and we will be heading out to Salt lake City either tomorrow night or the next day. The journey continues.
See you next week.
- Jasper
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