Searching

I don't know what I'm looking for, but I hope I find it

Gray Whales aka my soon-to-be new besties

This Saturday, I am getting on a plane to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico to meet my friend C for a trip. We planned this trip back in October, when C randomly sent me an email asking if I’d be interested in doing an ecotourism trip involving gray whales. None of her other friends were interested, and she expressed that she needed to GTFO for a minute.

We will be taking a 15 seat Cessna (NOT MY FAVORITE PART) and spending three nights in a remote location near San Ignacio Lagoon. We will be taking several excursions on small pangas to have encounters with whales. The panga captains in this lagoon have a long relationship with the gray whales who visit during their migration every year, and that trusting relationship means that these whales will approach the boats, and in some cases, even let you pet them. The very idea of it turns me into a small child. It seems too good to be true.

This is a true bucket list experience for me. Once in a lifetime.

I hemmed and hawed. I still had some funds left from my play commission, but as usual, I was hung up on the price tag. When I talked to my husband about it and was debating on whether or not I should go, he looked at me, dumbfounded. He said, “Why would you NOT go? This is your dream!”.

I decided to spend a full week in Cabo, even though the whale tour is only a few days, because why not? With some clever finagling of credit card points, I didn’t have to pay for my flight or my hotel. Once the whale tour is over, I am going to be alone at a resort near the sea for two days before I fly home.

HOLY SHIT THANK GOD I BOOKED THIS TRIP BECAUSE I AM ABOUT TO LOSE IT.

The onslaught of the first week of Our Current National Nightmare was more taxing than I anticipated, not that I am shocked by anything that has happened (there was, in fact, a whole document outlining what they wanted to do and for some reason people didn’t believe it), but it is awful and overwhelming and scary regardless.

This trip is to fulfill a dream, but it is also to hit the reset button on my brain. I feel like I’m an old school Nintendo. We need to take the cartridge out, blow on it, and smack the thing a few times before I can actually function the way I need to.

I have resolved to be mostly offline during this time. I am not going to pay extra for cell service when I’m there unless I need it for an emergency, and will only be using WiFi when I am in my room. I don’t have Instagram anymore and I took TikTok off my phone (and for the moment, can’t get it back). I may take Substack off my phone too, just so I am not tempted to spend my downtime scrolling Notes.

This trip will be a search for answers, or for a sign. I honestly do not know what to do anymore. I have this terrible feeling I cannot shake, like our lives have completely changed and are never going to be the same. This trip feels like my last chance to explore a tiny bit of the world with my freedom still somewhat intact. I really hope I am wrong about that.

The ocean has always been my solace and my place of power. I have had more than one major epiphany sitting near a beach, and a good chunk of my creative ideas too. It clears my mind and it calms me. I have a healthy respect for the ocean. It can take life as easily as it can give it. But I do not fear it. I fear for it.

I know I am privileged to be able to do this sort of thing when the world is going to shit, but I also can’t spend my entire life feeling guilty when I do something nice for myself. Right now, I need to get the hell out of here. I don’t want to lose my hope, my compassion, or my purpose, and at present I feel all three of them slipping through my fingers. I am hoping to find something out there in the water to grab onto, something that won’t slip away. And if that’s a happy whale friend, I’ll take it.

I’ll see you when I return.