2020-02-07 - Bittersweet Trip

Traveling - Friday, February 7

Barely any sun shone through the windows when Sparrow’s alarm went off. This wasn’t uncommon, but the intentional disruption to Alfie’s sleep was. She woke him with a spattering of kisses, insisted on a shared shower, a shared breakfast, all the shared time they could manage--less than an hour in total--before she disappeared for the weekend. “I’ll bring you something back,” she promised on her way out the door with her backpack over her shoulders, one small suitcase in hand.

She was Nicole’s first appointment of the morning at Curl Up & Dye, in a redhead and out a blonde. It was a cute look, a little more sophisticated than the neon-bright bob she’d been rocking since summer. Perfect for her first academic conference.

She filled the drive to the airport with bouncy pop played at high volumes and belted along to each and every one. Until one hit a little close to home. She let EZI sing without her about how I’m alright, doing fine, can’t you tell? and tried not to think too hard about any evidence to the contrary. It was going to be difficult not to. This whole trip was Yule’s doing. Such a good thing, soured by silence. It’s what she wanted, right?

Maybe if she hadn’t been thinking about that, she would have left well enough alone when she texted Cris, kept the conversation light with no difficult questions that got her worrying about things she really, really didn’t need to worry about this weekend. “He’s cute,” pulled her from her concerns, commentary on the selfie he’d sent from the older woman nosily looking over her shoulder. Smile promptly brightening, Sparrow spent the whole flight talking with Edie about boys and business, big dreams and little adventures.

And maybe just a little bit about psychedelics. How could she not? It’s why she was going to Tempe in the first place! Registration opened at 4:30pm, but between baggage claim, hotel check-in and yet more travel time, she didn’t get to the conference until just before the opening prayer. Then right into the transpersonal breathwork workshop with its self-induced high and so many people to meet!

She texted her dad about that one as soon as she got back to her room that night. Late, sure, after dinner and drinks and mingling, but he wouldn’t mind. She might have had a half-dozen conversations to back home going all at once by the time she passed out, excited and exhausted, her sleep more peaceful than anything she might manage at home.

The Psychedelics Conference - Saturday, February 8 through Sunday, February 9

Sparrow barely stopped to breathe all weekend, whatever downtime she found between workshops on the therapeutic potential of psilocybin and MDMA or spiritual practices involving peyote and DMT was spent wandering the art gallery or networking, making contacts and listening to any and all advice on how to get further into these fields of study. Fairly universally, she was advised to pick up some psych courses, which she knew she’d probably have to get around to eventually, but it helped to hear it from people doing the work she hopes to one day do.

She texted Alfie excitedly about the workshop on oneirogenic plants, wondering how much of that could be put to use back home, and promised to steal him away to one of the retreats she’d secured invitation to over the summer.

Sunday morning in Arizona involved yoga, just like it would have at home, settling all the excess energy into place, bringing body and mind back into balance. For a few hours, anyway.

The flight home was dreary, the drive from the airport quiet. The whole world was grey again. Gloomy. All the desert sunshine left behind for more snow and rain and slush and school and relationship strain and things barely started and things fallen apart and things caught in weird stasis and does anything ever change?

She didn’t feel when it started to creep in, but she felt the weight in full by the time she was home and lugging her bags up the stairs with heavy steps. It was probably just exhaustion, a bit of burn-out after a long, exciting weekend with a lot of travel. Nothing a hot shower and a good night’s sleep won’t fix, right?

Didn’t matter how much she lied to herself. She knew how half-hearted it was, that there wasn’t one little spark of hope in her heart left to go with it.

It was about time she crashed.