Dear Welles

It’s extraordinary to think of the web of events that led us together in that sleazy surf hostel in Jaco. The first words I heard you were say were “isn’t there another guy coming with us?”

There’s something about the circumstance of knowing that one unknown person will be traveling with your group - even if that group has only recently formed - that reveals a beauty in the way life unfolds. It is like life is letting us in on it’s secret for this one event, letting us know of one card in its hidden hand.

How marvelous of a trip that was! Perhaps it is different for me than for you and our pal, Noe, because it was on the tail end of my time in Costa Rica and just the beginning of yours. But I trust that the nearly miraculous 3 days we traveled together has left an imprint on you as well.

Once while I was camping by myself in the woods and mountains outside of Boulder, in the Indian Peaks Wilderness, I met a sort of strange fellow. He was slightly older than you, but with a similar build and general appearance. He told me he was a yoga instructor but he had been camping out in the mountains for a few weeks. I was cautious to spend much time with him, but we did spend a day hiking together. He was inclined to talk at length- in fact, basically in lecture - about the principles and historic details of Buddhism, which I suppose was the reason why I cared to spend any time with him at all.

He told me about a practice in the art of letting go in which you stand on the banks of a rushing stream or flowing river and - without any outside assistance - throw yourself into the water. If you struggle and flair or even try to swim, it’s likely that you will crash into a boulder or log and you may drown. He himself had broken an ankle on a rock kicking and flailing. The trick, instead, is to allow yourself to float to the water’s surface and, using your hand as a rudder the way a fish uses its fin, you steer yourself along as you’re carried downstream, navigating any obstacles with the clarity of mind that any attempts to gain control would take away.

You must be able to let go to be in control.

Now when I think of the three of us travelers sitting on the bus stop bench, waiting for a bus we knew would arrive too late to catch the transfer we needed, I see us jumping into the river. Letting go of the security of bus schedules and organized time. Just arriving and see what our options were, still finding a way to our destination.

I think of what you said to me, your friend’s wise words:

“Does the bird perch on the highest branches of a tree because it trusts the branches or its wings?”

Perhaps we all carry around more capable wings than we realize. I hope, my dear friend, that you are using yours well and enjoying the breeze against your feathers and taking in a marvelous view.

Sincerely, your friend,

Roman