Dear Reader,
I was invited by a blogger to answer a Q & A questionnaire about my life and travels...it ended up being a therapy session, as I poured my heart out into my writing and answered his questions perhaps more honestly than he bargained for. But if we can’t speak truthfully to each other, then what are words even for - what are we even here for, if we don’t talk to each other about what is on our hearts?
The questionnaire (included in its entirety at the end of this newsletter) brought back a lot of memories about my brother Patrick. The rest of the week, I felt haunted by him, but haunted in a good way, in a cathartic way. I rummaged through my old journals and found my notebooks that I had written while I was in Brazil traveling with Patrick, and for the first time since his death, felt like I could finally read them, and write about them.
Patrick was a writer as well, and he was in the middle of writing about our expedition together on the upper Amazon when he died, leaving the story incomplete. Me, being the only other person who was on that expedition, am the only person who can finish that story. It’s been too hard to even look at my journals from that time, let alone revisit them in my mind - when I write, I truly relive the experience - but I think enough time has passed that I am now able to tell that story. There is a snippet of it in the Q & A, but there’s a lot more to that. Stay tuned, I’ll soon be taking up my brother’s pen and finishing our story. The time finally feels right.
With Patrick on my mind, and weather on the forecast, my flights were cancelled for most of the week and I had time to really sit down and slog through some work for Ellen Magellan Expeditions. There’s a lot of legal and business things I’m learning how to do, and it’s very much not my forte, but I’m treating this part of the expedition like an expedition in itself; trying to remember not to take it so seriously, and have fun. People get so serious when you start talking about money, and it’s not even real.
I remember one time on expedition I came across my wallet while rummaging through gear, and pulled out some dollar bills. I hadn’t made a transaction in almost three weeks, and had been distancing myself on the river so much so that these bills in my hand...it was just paper. Out here, the most use they had was to start a fire. We live our whole lives dealing with these little bits of paper, but they’re useless outside of society, and even more useless after you’re dead. I put the bills back in my wallet and put the wallet away, forgetting what I was even looking for in the first place.
So yeah, I’m dealing with some money now, but reminding myself that it’s not even real takes the pressure off. The only thing that’s real is what’s happening right now, and the only thing that’s important is that you’re here for it. That’s your primary job as a human with these strange, advanced consciousnesses… just be here. My forever favorite quote about that is from Mary Oliver. I live my life by this very simple poem:
“Instructions for living a life.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”
I had a phone meeting with my sister-in-law Isa, who was Patrick’s girlfriend when he died. Despite his death, we all loved her so much she remained part of our family, and I call her sister just as much as if we had grown up together. She’s a graphic designer and social media consultant, and she’s been helping me a ton with Ellen Magellan Expeditions. After a long day of doing things for the nonprofit, we had a phone meeting and addressed some items of business. At the end of the meeting, we both expressed excitement that “we’re really doing it!” and “this is real!”
I drove home after our phone call and was just hit by this wave of gratitude for Isa - so much that my face contorted in the dark and fat tears threatened to obscure my vision. What would I do without her? I very much felt that Patrick sent her to me, to go on this expedition around the world with me. I blinked the tears out of my eyes and suddenly felt like I was not alone in my truck. Patrick was sitting in the passenger seat. He’s never visible, but I know when he’s there.
He told me that I’m doing a great job.
-Ellen Magellan
“Your better self is born of grief.” -Stephen Jenkinson
Q & A in its entirety (Wildsidebrand):