Frankly, I’m a bit embarrassed. I didn’t realize I had so many tampons stored in my glove compartment. I admit, you threw me for a loop, having just sent my friend an enthusiastic “Leaving now!” text and excitedly rolling out my suitcase to my car, sleeping bag and pillow in my other arm, only to find out that you’d been there before me. All doors left slightly ajar with the contents of my center console and glove compartment scattered on the ground and passenger’s seat. I felt discombobulated and violated- my car had been turned inside out without my permission. Maps of California and Oregon that my mom insisted I carry, despite me telling her I’d never use them because I had google maps. The $2.99 yellow rain poncho gifted to me from a friend after a rainy forest hike where I got drenched. My annual San Mateo county parks pass I’d received in the mail just the day before. Old swimming workouts written on lined paper in Ziploc bags that made me miss the pool.
I carefully placed the contents of my car strewn about the cold concrete back into their place- the Ceravie lotion, my Advil container, a stick of concealer and eyeliner for emergency touch-ups after late nights. After scanning everything, I realized you needed my car charger, phone mount, and the Ann Taylor sunglasses my sister had gifted me the Christmas of 2018- the ones that made me feel so chic and stylish, and also…my chapstick.
Driving to my friend’s house, I played Jahnavi Harrison’s song “Hari Om: May All Be Blessed.” On repeat. Until my breath slowed and my nerves calmed down and I could think straight. I sang along with it, again and again, reveling in the calm piano sequence and praying that prayer. I sent you blessings, too. May you be blessed, in whatever difficult situation you’re in.
I thought of you as we hitched up the brand new Airstream to the SUV, hooking the heavy metal chains in an ‘X’ and connected the metal swaybars and attached the pins, plugging in the lights and attaching the trailer mirrors. How this was something that maybe you’d never get to experience if you were struggling to meet your basic needs. You came to mind later that evening when we set up camp and arranged wood and kindling and leaves into our fire pit. Have you ever sat in front of a campfire and watched the kindling and oak leaves burn and turn a fiery orange as they disappear into the night sky? Or looked up into the dark sky long enough for your eyes to adjust, revealing a thousand more stars?
I thought of you as I felt the damp and dark coolness climbing inside of rock formations and the heat and elevation while propelling myself up steep stairs etched into the mountain. While cresting the ridgeline and admiring condors circle gracefully above. How this was a delight you hadn’t experienced if you needed to creep around at 4:35 am to gather the random contents from a stranger’s car. You came to mind as I was enjoying the sound system inside the Airstream, in between Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers songs, and in the middle of the night when the heater kicked on while I was inside of my toasty sleeping bag. Were you warm too?
Thank you for reminding me of my privilege and how much I have in comparison to certain individuals. For showing me that items are easily replaceable, and that experiences and memories are what matter the most to me. Thank you for leaving my lined notebook unharmed and unscathed- it had some poems and ideas that are meaningful to me that I would’ve missed.
I wish you well. Hari Om- may all be blessed, including you. And last but not least, I hope you enjoy and use my chapstick. The peppermint tingle is delightful, isn’t it?