I was sitting in front of a vista that most people would describe as “paradise.” The invisible edge of the infinity pool gave way to the palm trees swaying by a dazzling blue ocean. Beautiful was an understatement, but it didn’t awaken anything in me the way that the views along my walks through my favorite cities do. The sea was mesmerizing, but only for so long. After some time, the inactivity of waterfront lounging began to feel crushing, as my mind wandered from place to place; looking for something to occupy itself. I started to wonder about why there were so few birds in the area, or how everything was kept so clean at the resort, or what I might do first when I got back to San Francisco. How did so many people vacation in places like this for several days in a row, doing nothing other than lying in the sun or lazing about in the water?
Thankfully, blissfully, I wasn’t there to do nothing but lie around for a while. My friends were having an Indian wedding in Cabo, Mexico, and they were nice enough to invite me. For two days, we celebrated their love and all of the ways their friends and family came together to support it. The incredible views and warm weather were just a backdrop, completely secondary to commemorating the past and future of their relationship. I loved seeing performances by family and friends of all ages, heartfelt speeches, and a dance floor spanning generations.
What was most enjoyable about the weekend was getting to hang out with some of my friends I don’t always get to see. These friends are some of my favorite people in the world, but we often only see each other every few weeks or even months. But for one weekend, we ran into each other over and over again during the various events throughout the wedding, would say “see you later,” and later was only a few hours away. The whole time we were relaxed from the warm weather, dressed up in our finest clothes, or otherwise celebrating our friends’ special day. It was as exciting as sleepovers were as a child — the entire fabric of everyday life was altered, everything seemed special.
Why is such a feeling so rare? How often do we channel all of our energy into being joyous and celebratory like this? Why does it feel so hard most of the time to get this excited about another person’s life, to bring excitement for a person not related to you? Yes, weddings are the biggest parties most people will ever have, one of the most important days of a person’s life. Of course, they should be really big deals. But what if every day could feel a little more celebratory as well?
With these friends, we began to brainstorm ideas of things we could do that could capture the feeling. Why couldn’t we just get an Airbnb with a pool somewhere nearby for a weekend here or there? Why didn’t we rent a little bus to Napa Valley some time? Why weren’t we doing more things like this anyway, these times when we can talk at length about nothing at all or everything important and feel comfortable, like no time has passed since days that we used to live together?
During these discussions at the pool, or at the wedding reception or on the dance floor, my mind wasn’t flooded with thought. I didn’t need to think about a thing in the world other than what was around me. I was only really thinking about where I was, among the swelling music, too aware of my too-slim suit pants or the beating sun. I was fully enthralled by the celebrations, by the performances and the food, the perfect company. There was no room for overthinking here, no reason to be in my head instead of present with what we were doing. This was the type of travel I was meant for — connecting with the people I love.
In the last thirty minutes of the wedding reception, the DJs decided to play only hits as everyone who was still there danced their hearts out and screamed every other lyric to the song. At the end, we stood in concentric circles, with our arms around each other’s shoulders, singing “Country Roads, Take Me Home” to close out. The DJs cut the vocals from the song, and for a few measures, the dozens of voices seemed to resonate into one, “take me home, to the place I belooooooooong.” In a different country, thousands of miles from my apartment, and surrounded by friends and friends of friends, that place didn’t feel far.
We must do what we can to push back against the genocide in Gaza and the invasion of Lebanon. Consider calling your US representatives to support de-escalation and a ceasefire, donating to Care for Gaza (grassroots organizations delivering food to Palestinians), directly to families or by buying e-SIMs to keep folks connected to their families. Lebanon is suffering too— consider donating to the Lebanese Food Bank, The Zahra Trust, or Beit El Baraka to help provide relief and resources.
💧 Drops of the Week 💧
PLAYLIST - nov 24 - fall vibes
POEM - “The Problem of Anxiety” by John Ashbery - Apple trees / blossom in the cold, not from conviction, / and my hair is the color of dandelion fluff.
The people demand more silly spontaneous soirées with the squad