The first few days after I rolled into Providence, RI, on Sunday, August 30th, I found myself in an unsettled state of seeking. Like a weary road tripper passing exit after exit hoping to see a sign advertising a fastish food location that won’t make him need to shit his pants within 30 minutes, I didn’t quite know what I was looking for.

I was able to elevate this state of seeking from annoyance to problem by the sheer amount of time (hours) spent swiping left and right on Facebook Dating, a tool I’ve actually used with some success in building connections on stops along my journey. I’m quite open about my status as a nomad and exactly how long I’ll be in any one location. I explicitly state that I’m not looking for a long-term relationship or a hookup, for that matter, but seek the company of interesting people to gallivant around with. Nothing wrong with “bro” time, but my closest friends do tend to be of the female persuasion, and I’ve always had the ability to maintain those relationships in a strictly platonic state.

Blasphemous to most. Par for the everchanging course for yours truly.

But, like anything else of that nature, I can get sucked into the validation aspect of it. And those first few days I was glued to that shit like a 40-something woman who just stumbled upon Sex and the City – it completely consumed me.

I started to seek a little bit deeper – why am I looking for validation? I know that any dating app is not going to provide any true comfort or meaningful relief. I’ve gotten quite adept at questioning the why behind my wayward behavior without judgment.

Except for when I neglect washing my towel for too long. That does get a swift kick in the groin of self-judgment. Every time.

I didn’t come to any rash conclusions, and I didn’t let that bother me either. I simply put Facebook Dating on pause and settled into my first-week routine. I found my gym (Planet Fitness), I locked into my daily walk to and from my office, and I started to peruse the Mindbody app to find any other wellness deals that tickled my fancy. I’m typically looking for yoga studio intro offers, first-time massage patient deals, etc.

That’s when I stumbled upon a Reiki practitioner who offers a healing modality I’d never heard of before called Emotional Coding. $80 for an hour-long session. Emotional Coding is described as using muscle testing to tap into my subconscious mind, identify specific trapped emotions from a chart, and release them using intention and magnets.

I’m no woo healing modality expert…but I’m no novice either. To come across something completely new to me was a surprise. Everything about it screamed “Hell to the mother f-ing yes!”

Little did I know that was far from the last “hell yes” of my time here in Providence.

Shortly after booking the first session with Sofia, I found a wonderful little sauna/cold plunge situation a 10-minute walk from my Airbnb that offers 5 sessions for a total of $65, and a yoga studio right next to the aforementioned Planet Fitness that offers $30 for 30 days of unlimited classes for new students. A new shape to my weeks began to assemble…

I used to think I needed to lift weights 5x per week to stay strong and walk at least 7-8 miles a day to stay svelte. That I needed to go to an office while living the nomad life because that would offset some of the wildness and lack of stability. I used to use downtime to stream shows and guilty pleasure movies or scroll mindlessly. I used to fall victim to the lustful temptation of porn.

I used to think that I needed to finish books that are “supposed to be good” or that people and reviews tell me I “should like.”

If I were to align myself with everything that is supposed to be good, I wouldn’t be driving by 37 fucking exits just to eventually eat a gas station deli sandwich. I wish that weren’t my truth, but for fuck’s sake, you have no idea how often I survive on beef jerky, mixed nuts, and gas station sandwiches whilst traversing the lands.

Can a guy find a goddamn Potbelly’s? Confound it all.

All of that began changing after the first intense Emotional Coding session with Sofia that cleared me of dense emotions that I’ve been carrying for a long, long time. Y’all can take the holier-than-thou stance on woo healing, but I’ll say this – after that session, the processing period knocked me out like a 48-hour flu. My body responded as such.

And so, instead of walking 30 minutes each way to an office in downtown Providence just for the sake of going to an office, I started working from my Airbnb. And because that gave me extra time in the mornings and in the evenings, I had more time to read. Because I had more time to read, I was able to more decisively determine that I did not like the cut of the jib of the books I was reading and to go and seek replacements, such as stumbling upon a book that completely changed the way I interact with the world – The Seat of the Soul.

It freed me up for 2-3 sauna and cold plunge sessions a week. It gave me the space and energy to recognize that my life is better when I’m creating music, and so I began to regularly pick up my guitar to play and sing. The extra rest made me realize that lifting weights 5x per week is too much for me, and so I balanced my morning movement schedule with 2 yoga classes.

And the most remarkable shift of all, I didn’t feel the need to escape into numbing via content of any kind. I have found myself yearning for more time with whatever handful of books my nose is stuck in at the moment.

I picked up a daily meditation routine. I’ve started using affirmations first thing when I wake up and last thing before I close my eyes. Not because some Insta influencer told me that I can magically alchemize a shit sandwich into a T-bone steak with these 5 affirmations…but because I want to whisper these sweet-sounding somethings into my ear.

Why is it whisper sweet nothings? That doesn’t track – I don’t whisper nothings, I whisper somethings. Bitch.

In short, in Providence I have found stillness. I have found rest. I have found peace. And I have learned more about what I need and don’t need moving forward as a nomad.

I did not find much out about the city of Providence itself, but what I found was the spiritual type of providence. The providence that speaks to being divinely guided.

And no, I’m not claiming that God, Jesus, or any of the other deities across the many pantheons have been speaking to me here. I’ve been down that road. See psychotic manic episode, 1st half of 2024, for that disintegration into the abyss of metaphysical nonsense.

Instead, I’ve discovered that providence lives within all of us, and it’s called our soul. I’m not going to get into all the nitty-gritty of The Seat of the Soul and how it shifted my perception, but I will tell you how I’ve updated the way I engage with the world day to day as a result.

I ask myself, “What does my soul need today?” Every. Single. Day. And I pay attention. To my feelings and emotions. I watch my thoughts and question them first before acting. I try things on and keep what fits and set down what doesn’t.

Except cargo jeans. An angel could descend directly into my room with a pair of diamond-bedazzled cargo jeans fitted with a thermos of holy water, and that would be a hard no.

Why, cargo jeans? Just let them be jeans and be done with it.

I’m still seeking as I close out my time here in Rhode Island. I’m seeking a legit, mafia-style Italian meal as I’m stationed in Little Italy. I’m seeking connection in the form of being open to engaging with my many housemates even though I’m only here for a few more days. I’m seeking 15–20-minute naps and a place to watch the White Sox triumphant return to the MLB playoffs.

I’m seeking day-to-day bursts of light and joy to lift me up and point the corners of my mouth skyward. And I’m seeking one last opportunity to eat a homemade Fruity Pebble-themed ice cream sandwich from Tricycle Ice Cream.

I’m also letting go in Rhode Island. Letting go of what I think my life needs to look like day to day, week to week, month to month, and year to year. Letting go of needing to have my next 6 months planned. Letting go of needing to go to a city that gives me access to an office space. Letting go of needing my life to appear a certain way to anyone else. Letting go of needing to get 1 gram of protein per pound of body weight per day. Of hitting specific movement goals. Of thinking something’s wrong if I don’t always feel like the most charismatic, outgoing, funny chap around.

And I’m 1000% letting the fuck go of dormitory-style living from here on out. I’m forty-five years old…I can afford to not have to worry whether or not I have enough space in the fridge for my week’s worth of groceries.