The Phoenix, The Peacock & The Train
From a few days before Christmas to a few days before the turn of the New Year, I had the great good fortune of renting out the entirety of Castillo Mugnana, an authentic Medieval castle in Greve ni Chianti, Tuscany - with 18 others. Fourteen of us were close friends from Remote Year - half still on the program, half resigned. The other four were dear friends from home of the organizing couple - Chris and B(ianca) - who came on RY engaged, thinking they would elope - and who parted with the program upon landing in Cambodia from Thailand, eloping afterward in Myanmar. This was, in a way, also their wedding reception.
We were in Chianti, so the wine was flowing, and the wifi was weak - so we talked, played games, cohabited in the the loveliest of ways, as we meditated on the year that had passed and that which was yet to come. We've been on deep dives inside ourselves and the unique experience we have had, gliding across the world in the last months, and so our goals, our lessons, our ideals rose to the surface of conversation. From those chats - three symbols kept appearing to me, almost like my own personal tarot.
The Phoenix:
Within Remote Year, and even more so, within life's seasons - there are drastic changes. I, and I think my community, felt that most intensely in the transition from Kuala Lumpur to Koh Phangan. Our first month was difficult - fits and starts of building a community, hard adjustments to our new lifestyle, inexperienced staff, lack of preparation or infrastructure, Southeast Asia; all took their toll. However. Within an hour of stepping off that final ferry from Surat Thani to Koh Phangan, the mood softened, the tension eased, there was an almost audible sigh of release. Those frustrations and misgivings that had framed my world only moments earlier no longer seemed so important.
I was discussing this with Jacri, a fellow resident of Bovy Beach - our neighborhood on Koh Phangan - at our first bonfire and he referenced the symbol of the phoenix. (Aside: our itinerary's code name is Libertatem, Latin for Freedom, and so the visual they use for us is a bird. In all our preparations and the first month - it was envisaged as an eagle, but, as we were leaving the Remote Year workspace in KL, in which we had been first, we left our mark in the form of a mural done by a local graffiti artist. His design? A phoenix.)
We are the phoenix. Every month in Remote Year we have a new life - new home, new neighbors, new community, new commute, new hangouts, new routine, new friends. And then, we transition. We change cities and that life dies; and the new life for the month is born from the ashes. Friendships and families grow and change, schedules and plans and preferences adjust to the new environment. We adapt and are reborn in a way.
The Peacock:
The castle was not easy to get to from Split, Croatia, the Remote Year city where those of us still traveling with (or alongside) the program were based in December. So, three friends - Rivkah, Ross, and Jen - and I decided to take a long road trip on our way to get there. Our differing plans after the castle meant we'd find our own ways to the next stop. But, for a week leading up to the castle we would travel through the former Yugoslavia and Italy. A day in Croatia before leaving for good, a night in Ljubljana, Slovenia (possibly my new future home, but that's a story for another time), three nights in Venice, two nights in Florence, and then the castle.
The way out of Split was tense. Ross had a hard time finding me at my apartment and then we had a few stops to make, which slowed us down. Google Maps didn't work very well in the old town, the roads were dangerously narrow, and we couldn't stop to the load the car because the one we'd be parked tightly next to would be needed for a funeral shortly. Our rental had less cargo space than we expected, and we were sat piled under bags. Then, shortly before emerging from the city, we were stopped in traffic one more time and we were so wrapped up in pessimism - it was almost enough to send us over the edge. The reason we were stopped is because for the next 2 minutes, a peacock was going to cross the road.
I whipped around and looked at Rivkah in the backseat. My eyes grew three sizes and I said "The Peacock" almost as if a prayer. It was a beautiful, miraculous moment. We were blessed to experience it - and had any one of those frustrations or difficulties been different, easier in any way, we would have missed it. Things happen as they happen. The hard moments are exactly the carriers that bring you to the awesome ones.
The Train
One night I was at the castle meditating on these two stories, these two symbols, and another came to me - the train. Life is a train. There is an embarkation and a disembarkation, some parts of the journey are more pleasant or interesting than others. The train travels elevations and cruises through changing landscapes. Fellow passengers join you in the journey for as long as their route coincides with yours. And, at times, the train reaches a point in a track where the path splits drastically, . I'm not sure if this one is a lesson so much as a reminder - take the long view.