You meet up with an old friend.
They’ve become a medic. You started off with plans to have tea. That’s morphed into going to a pride parade. Children dance in the streets to the drag queens DJs and there smiles everywhere yet you know you are there to support your friends as they would treat gunshot victims.
Later the two of you would go out into the woods, far from the city. You are going to a new little utopia. A piece of land that used to be a Christmas tree farm. It’s had all its black berry bushes removed and it’s been terraformed into a silhouette of the refuge it will become. You introduce your different social bubbles to one another. You steam in the sauna. You get an endorphin rush as you plunge into the pond filled with frogs and waterproof leds. You spin fire for the first time half naked and still dripping wet.
This is Portland.
You meet up with an old friend.
He’s taken the last few years to turn his home into his castle. Surrounding his home is a garden of delights. Fruit trees, lettuce, herbs are just the start. Each section is masterfully crafted into its own specialized haven. As he tours you around he offers you nibbles from leaves, from berries, from flowers. He’s invited you to pick your own salad from his land. This is a first for you and it’s a delight. He fishes out a turnip larger than your head. You both read instructions on how to cook it as you dice it up in his kitchen. You two make improvised roasting dishes out of tin foil. It reminds you of being a kid. He shared with you his homemade canned pears. They are literally the best you ever had. Sweet, complex with a tang from a little bit of lemon. As a child you had canned pears from your grandparents across the street. This is the grown up version of that. You dine outside in front of his fire pit.
You two sit and talk. You share of years past. You share echoes of recent conversation. You share questions.
What is most prized is the shared presence. It’s a glow of light. As Ram Das would say, it’s looking at another and saying “hey, i’m here are you here? Do you want to come out and play?”. And you are there together as souls, free of roles, free of the burdens of life, pure presence, sitting comfortably by a pond.
You end the evening in a hot tub with him, eating frozen grapes, and taking turns hopping into his ice covered cold plunge.
This is Portland.
You are going to meet up with a new group.
You sleep in late. You write. You are going to prepare your sage and smudge the room. You are going to do your cliffsnotes’ yoga. You are going to practice lock picking.
You are going to dance with strangers in a park.
You are going to seek and accept what is offered.
You are going to seek being at peace with what is.
This will be Portland.