The Bracelet

In December when I was going through the breakup, I carried around a light blue plastic rosary I had gotten 3 years earlier at an interfaith conference. I liked it because it reminded me of when I was homeless, or just about to be homeless, in Miami Beach living with a group of bohemian artists in an art gallery. If we wanted extra cash we could sell these plastic crucifixes in neon colors to tourists on Lincoln Road. Each crucifix was 12 dollars and we could keep the cash. For each 12 dollars I made, 90% would go towards vodka, and 10% into the McDonalds Dollar Menu. Stark contrast for a vegan, vegetarian, health food loving, Oregonian girl. Although that time was difficult (understatement of the year), it's still romanticized in my head as being fun, carefree, and exhilarating, partly because it's one of the few times I've been free of romantic involvement.

Free.

So in December of 2017 I carried plastic Jesus everywhere, and whenever I would get overwhelmed, or angry, or crave vodka and nothingness,  I’d grab it, usually from its home in  my pocket and rub the tiny plastic beads between my thumb and  index finger repeating over and over again, "God please help me, God please help me". I didn't want to drink over a relationship. I didn't want to drink over anything, so plastic Jesus was there.

That is until I lost plastic Jesus. Or rather donated it to the next person who needed him on a flight somewhere between Mexico City and Rio de Janeiro while heading to Brazil for work. I remember mild panic in the Brazilian airport when my suitcase didn't appear for an hour, and I was convinced someone had taken it. Jet lagged from having just flown from Mexico where I had undergone an unplanned root canal the day before, I reached into my pocket for a "God I need help NOW" session to find nothing. Shit. I found my suitcase, luckily, or rather the Feds did after suspecting my bicycle inside was a large weapon, and I was released. I would need to find a new Jesus in Brazil.

After settling into life in a Rio favela, I started to use a beaded bracelet I was given in China from said ex, to repeat the same mantra whenever I would get overwhelmed, or want to drink. I needed something to continue this staying sober and centered ritual and it worked. I navigated through giant parties, a trip to Sao Paulo, getting a new crush, and watching said crush at a party go for someone else, then have to sit next to both of them on an overnight bus back to Rio. Fucking awkward, but I had my beads, and my prayer, and God.

Then in very dramatic fashion that bracelet, or rather God decided I was over the ex, and ready to be free in a very... performative way. After 3 months in Rio, so many AA meetings, an online women's group, numerous books, long runs, hours of mediation, looking at my part, recognizing abuse, emerging from abuse, the weight of him lifted. The weight of shame lifted, of  powerlessness, fear, insecurity, doubt, low self-esteem, it all got lighter. It was like my body was now luminescent and things just didn't cling to it so tightly. I could breathe again. Free.

I started to adventure out, travel, meet new people, hold myself up taller because after all, it was easier, I was so much lighter. On one of those spectacular adventures I had taken a bus to Arraial do Cabo, home to some of the most magnificent beaches in the world. My host was sexy, athletic, and adventurous Brazilian. We took his motorcycle up a long unpaved road, lined on one side by rocks and dry weathered plants, and the other by a 100 foot drop down into cerulean ocean, so clear you could see the tortoises swimming over powdered sugar sand. We pulled off at one point because the water was too stunning to not to feel it on your skin. We took turns diving for sea turtles and playing in the sand on our private patch of oasis, a beach nestled in the rocks.

We continued the adventure by hiking back up to the gravely dirt road with our wet feet, and to his motorcycle to find the end of the trail, and the top of the hill. The view from there was going to be spectacular. The Harley couldn't reach the very top because the trail became engulfed in cacti and palm branches, so we got off the bike and walked in our flip flops between the cacti and jagged rocks, being careful not to get tripped up on either. It was hard to feel threatened though being surrounded by such feats of nature, awe overtook doubt. The cliff branched out between the turquoise bay on one side, and the deep blue thrashing ocean on the other. I began to pickup shiny white shells that littered our path, fitting them into my tiny pockets. When I realized there were far more than I could carry, I called the attention of my hiking partner and bragged to him that I could throw a white shell so far it would travel over the edge of the cliff, and into the thrashing waves below.

We both watched, and on the count of three the shell went flying, but what caught both are eyes even more, was a red mass of beads traveling far further than the shell and away into the waves. It was the bracelet. In a flash I had remembered thinking, I wonder if he is still wearing it and thinking of me as he hikes, then I laughed and let that shit go.

Sometimes I want to know how long something will take, to get over, finish, go through, accomplish. This lesson serves to remind me that this too shall pass. The awful feelings of heartache, disappointment, anger, rage, all will pass and usually not on my own timeline. The best feeling in the world is when they do, and I am ready. So ready I  laugh and let go, and be free again. So free.