To start of: I decided to cancel the plan of having a big get together on Friday 6th of November in Amsterdam. How so?

Season of the falling gloves

In my mind I call this the season of the falling gloves. When I lived in cities, there would always be this magical moment: of the first lonesome glove on the bike path. Obviously falling out of a pocket of a hastily moving cyclist. I imagine them, trying to answer their phone, or get quickly something out of their pocket. Would they go back for it? Two years ago, I started collecting them, all the lonesome gloves. I dreamed of making a popup lost and found store for gloves. Right handed gloves were in the majority, by the way. Another project that I never quite finished before leaving on this journey.

Letting go

Losing items is another great opportunity to let go. In a year time I managed to lose a hat, a dress, a bag of dirty underwear, a waterbottle, broke a pair of sandals and last week, I lost my wallet. This last item was of course yet the most inconvenient of all. The interesting thing is it took me 4 days to really realise it, using cash I stash in different places, like squirrels stashing acorns. After that, I was upset for about a day and then… it was over. I just have to get a new bankcard, a new license. I get the money back from the insurance. I’m most sad about the bandaid with a unicorn, given to me by a friend when I broke my kneecap. It makes me think again how we can get attached to things - why was I more upset over people eating special mushrooms I bought on the market than losing my wallet? How am I still upset over losing a pair of sunglasses but never thought again about all of the stuff in my apartment that i gave away for free, including my electrical guitar, kitesurfing gear and almost all my books. It was, I realise, about the persons attached to the item. Gifts or objects tied into a story, a relation, a person.

The hardest to let go of, I realised, is people. I met hundreds of people in the past year, and I tried keeping in contact with at least thirty of them. And trying to meet everyone in person and and and… Do i go wide or deep? Keeping in light touch in hundreds, or having deep contact with just a handful? An old wisdom says its better to have a good neighbour relation than friends far away. How does that work in the reality of neighborhoods were there is little contact with neighbours? Where people are moving all the time? In the era of digital nomads and remote workers?

Staying

I realised, connection needs a place. This letter to you, is attempt to replace this place with a virtual space. But without having again the physical touch, also this gets shallow. Writing is a bit more lonesome than I realised.

A realisation of a year on the road. To go deep, I have to be in a place. Being located creates more depth, creates relations, creates opportunity to build. In the past 4 months I changed city, sometimes country, every week.

I feel this season of falling gloves is a great moment to transition into a new phase of my travels. I am getting more located. I am letting go of trying to seeing a little bit of everyone I know, but spend quality time. So, dear you, reader, contact me if you are in the Netherlands November-December, or Sicily around Christmas, or around Freiburg (southern Germany) February-March and want to meet up.

I’ll be staying around ;-)

Love,

River