Simple is where life is felt

For two days, I didn’t leave the apartment I rented in Casablanca. Well, technically I’d left to purchase water and tea. And on my route, I’d stumbled on a sweets shop and a fruit seller. I wanted to patronize them to feed my spirit with the nourishment of human connection.

Traveling to countries based in languages I don’t speak is an invitation for me to shift from living through my analytical mind to living through my intuition and emotions. There’s a shared language we all speak, and it is emotional. It’s based on energy, our nerve plexuses, and our individual nervous systems. Together, our individual nervous systems become a shared nervous system. It’s what makes it possible to sense the general vibe or feeling in a room, to connect with other animated beings, to live stories and recount the memories later. But to experience the magic of this shared capacity for connection, I have found it requires simplicity — to release the unnecessary and return to the obvious; the only thing there ever is from the beginning and at the end: the breath.

Through my breath, I have the opportunity to experience my body and what my heart is communicating. And this is what I consider the truth. Wherever I understand the truth, I understand life.

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The trip from Los Angeles to Casablanca was long. With the flight path I took, I was traveling for 3 days before I arrived at my destination. Rest beckoned. Real rest. On the second day after my arrival in Casablanca, I took an Arabic calligraphy class and the instructor suggested to me a number of landmarks in the area I could walk to and enjoy.

I wanted to enjoy them in the days following the class, I really did. I’d pictured walking through the chaotic city with my camera and snapping anything that caught my lens’ interest. I pictured sitting on a bench at Arab League Park and breathing in the smell of the city. But rest was calling me. Part of me was itching to do something “legitimate” in the city, to make my few days in Casablanca mean something other than a place to rest my head. But what if it was simply a place to rest my head?

On my last day before traveling to Marrakech, I decided I would take an evening walk to Arab League Park and take my camera with me. And then in the hour before I decided to go out, I sat for a much-needed meditation after a morning of computer time (life as an entrepreneur is full of tasks and projects!). As soon as I got still and connected with my breath, the idea came to my mind that I wouldn’t be leaving the hotel for any “legitimate” reason like an art walk. And as much as part of me wanted to push on, I couldn’t deny the feeling of ease and relaxation felt deeper in my body when I allowed this realization to surface.

Is it not enough to simply be? I understand the allure when traveling to be fully immersed in a new place, but rest is necessary, and my body and mind are reminding me to prioritize what is necessary, no matter how far I’ve traveled from home to experience something different. In the resting, life is still happening. Life doesn’t stop because we cease to include ourselves in the hustle and bustle. In fact, life is better felt when resting — in my opinion, while life starts to happen in the movement, the meaning of the movement is felt in integration, or rest periods — so life is really felt in the simplicity of rest.

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Breathing is key. So simple. So nourishing.

***

Like I said, though, I did eventually leave the house that final evening in Casablanca. I’d went out to purchase tea and water. I’d eventually forgotten the water and ended up buying sweets from a sweet shop and a nectarine from a fruit seller. It was fun counting the dirham, giving the wrong amount, learning how to give the right amount. I’d only walked for 5 minutes behind my hotel to purchase these items. I’d crossed a semi-busy road and had to negotiate space and timing with life to move through the already-present movement. That 10-minute excursion required energy from me. I had to be vigilant, just as one always does when they are a female solo traveler in a traditional and energetic city like Casablanca.

Even though I was using some energy, I’d felt satisfied that I was still resting because I was close to home, the hotel. I was buying treats to eat at home in the bed with some jazz and my sketchbook— which is exactly what I did for the rest of the evening. It wasn’t a balanced dinner, no. But it was nourishing to the soul. I felt in this simple way that Casablanca was letting me be who I chose to be in the cacophony of the city’s energy. It was like she was saying “Enjoy your life however you choose it”. And by “she” I mean me. I was saying that to myself.

When I was in my 20s, I filled up my days and evenings doing all types of things in all the countries I’d visited. In the last couple of years, I’ve been slowing down. Being here is good enough, and actually makes me more aware of when I am organically aroused by an idea or opportunity. Not just doing things to say I did them. Coming to Morocco is a special experience, a privilege I chose to embody with fearlessness and gratitude, but it is not a once-in-a-lifetime experience. It’s actually my second time in the country and coming here was as simple as buying tickets, planning accommodation, and organizing my life around travel. I don’t need to make the situation more precious than it is.

And in this way, I can enjoy the authentic experience of what it is, which to me, is precious enough.

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