To the Person Who Showed Me The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Your name has taken such a special seat in my heart that to address you with "Dear" or "my friend" or anything feels unnecessary.

It sounds like both your hands are full of all that life has to offer: family, friendship, education, work, love, wine, and clothes. You're in the thick of it and I hope you're eyes are open to the beauty of all that is occurring in your life. We are, after all, floating on a little rock. The mere occurrence of all of these things is truly amazing. Enjoy it with all the confidence you have in you, because these are not distractions- these are it. But, then again, so is what you're being distracted from.

I'm not surprised at all that university and academia feels sterile and artificial to you now. You've felt the Earth with your hands and the sweat of a hot summer day with all the senses stimulated. How could the world of ideas alone be an adequate way to follow that up? Your soul has tasted how it feels to be wild, to be foreign, to be stepping with one foot in the familiar and the other into the unknown- of course what you know will seem to fall flat. I'm excited for you to be realizing this as you sit in your seminars and stare at your books. You're ready to fly again. No, of course you're not done yet. But even though you're not done, you've found that you're ready. Could you ask for more than that out life or out of 3 months of traveling?

Isn't it funny how there are certain times that we think we can wrap a little bow on something and think that we're done with it just as life has something waiting for us to turn around and be surprised by? Who could have imagined that on the other side of your travels in California- as a solo trip to be alone- you've found love. Yes, it leaves you vulnerable. Yes, it ties you to another. Yes, it can be concerning. But how beautiful it is. Let it flow from you. Fly with your feet on the ground.

I leave for Ukiah on Sunday and I'll start my new job on Monday. These past few days I've been looking around this property and the valleys and mountains beyond it with new eyes. It all feels so dreamlike. I suppose that's what all this is. I'm simply in awe of it all.

Six months ago I quit my job, moved out of my apartment a few days later and started to travel. First for a couple of weeks in Minneapolis, then to Costa Rica for 2 weeks with friends, then back to Minneapolis to shoot a short film. When that was finished, I packed up my car and drove out West. I spent the summer based on the farm, leaving for a festival back in the midwest and then spending a week in LA, a spontaneous trip to Portland and then our last weekend in SoCal. After that I spent a month in Costa Rica feeling like I was in the strangest bubble of uncertainty. I felt like a small boy in a tornado not quite sure which direction the wind was blowing. You know how funny life works sometimes, how when you’re in the deepest despair and uncertainty something crawls out of your blind spot and pokes you right on the shoulder, begging you to come this way.

I told you this just before we parted ways, but I'll write it to you again now: Everything that happens from here is completely made up as I go along. I could go on and on listing all the thoughts I've had about what I might do, but I have been trying to not talk about things as uncertain as the future. I'll keep you updated and we'll go from there. I had no plans for after Costa Rica. I just knew I had to go back and now here I am, with two days left on the farm before I move to a town where I know just one person. It's exactly what I asked life for: a new start. No reputation to coast on. No expectations to be graded against. Just what I am.

Perhaps for the first time in my whole life I feel alone. Not in a bad way. I know I have love and support when I look for it. But it's just me here. "Here" is a place that's difficult to define but I feel it almost all the time. You're found yourself in love and I've found myself just about as far as I've ever been from it.

It sounds like a dream for you to come back to the States and to have a road trip camping. You should do that regardless if I can get myself to Europe or not. Taking this job is a critical part of getting to Europe, but I'm not sure when I'll be able to get there. I'm trying not to rush anything because I simply can't afford to slip right now. To be honest, all of my dreams of travel and beyond seem detached from the present moment. I'll get there, I know.

I miss our friendship terribly. I miss seeing the way you stayed alight and glowing in this world- reading for an hour before getting out of bed, doing yoga, sleeping with earplugs in, everything. In all my memories of us, we're beaming.

Sending you lots of love,

Roman

P.S. I'm nearly done with The Unbearable Lightness of Being and it's surely becoming one of my favorite books I've ever read! I love Kundera's voice!!