“Leave the keys on the table in the apartment.” Carlos’ instructions were clear. Both Joy and I talked about it as we were preparing to leave Barcelona to head to our next destination. Remember: Leave the keys on the dining room table. We were simply to set the keys down and then walk out the door of Carlos’ oasis in the middle of one of the most charming cities in the world, close the door and then go on our merry way leaving Barcelona behind us. Check. Got it. No need to worry, we got this; keys on the table and shut the door behind us.
Carlos gave us these instructions as we were about to begin our last day in Barcelona, which turned out to be one of the delightful days of my life. We wandered around the heart of Barcelona taking in every last morsel of this delectable city stopping only for a place to eat and to drink some wine for me and water (with ice, please) for Joy. At every corner of 
Barcelona you will discover one of many restaurants that will tout “the best tapas in all of Barcelona” and if I were given the chance to vote I would have to say a great many of these restaurants could lay claim to the prize. The tapas in Barcelona are divine. Anyone with a few euros can sample several different types of tapas in sizes that will never overwhelm with a taste that will always satiate. Small, delectable and affordable. This is my kind of eating.
As the morning drifted into the late afternoon on our last day Joy and I meandered around the plaza trying to drink in every drop of this quixotic city that boasts culture, love, understanding, compassion, lust and whatever other emotion that makes a person feel the most alive. Each turn around the city center brought us face to face with the essence of Spanish culture; love, laugh, eat drink, dance.
Around one particular corner we were beckoned by the sound of live acoustical music that was accompanied by one of
the most melodious voices a street performer could ever possess. As Joy and I approached we were instantly drawn to have a seat at the café that these talented men decided to perform at no charge, that is unless you feel compelled to put something in their cup (we always felt compelled to put something in their cup. They are artists supporting a dream, who wouldn’t want to help them?). Joy and I settled in for the magic and soon 45 minutes had passed as we tapped our feet to the sounds of this extemporaneous concert while eating food and drinking elixirs that ignited our souls.
This is life. This is the manifestation of dreams. When we state our intention to the Universe and we make it clear everything we have ever wanted is presented to us. For me, this moment was the culmination of everything I had ever desired. I was in Europe on the trip of the lifetime with someone I loved in the purest way possible and this music became the soundtrack that underlined the beauty of that love. It was the soundtrack that dreams are made of, the kind 
of dreams that will keep our hearts warm when we teeter away in our rocking chair when we reach our advanced years. For our part, Joy and I were living now, not for the future, but right now and there is nothing more intoxicating than this feeling.
It was in this moment that I remembered the most fundamental law of the Universe. Whatever we put into our minds, whatever we let occupy our thoughts becomes our reality. My thoughts center on love. They center on giving to those that need it the most and knowing that my kindness will come full circle. My intention is kindness for everyone no matter who you are or what you think you have done that somehow makes you feel undeserving of love. This music solidified my belief that we all want and deserve love so why not just be that love. Why not embody that love.
My thoughts also center on travel. When we get out into the world we soon discover that no matter where we call home we are really not all that different from one another. The Spaniard and the American are one. I certainly discovered this while I lounged in Carlos’ home that he so beautifully provided for us.
My thoughts also center on being with the people I love the most and although everyone that I love wasn’t sharing this moment with me listening to music and eating and drinking in this plaza in Barcelona, Spain these amazingly special 
people whom I love so much were with me in spirit My dearest sister was with me in spirit on this perfect day in April. My closest friends were sitting with me if only energetically. My children were there. My former lovers stood beside me and nodded with love as I relished in this moment. They were all there in spirit and isn’t this our truest nature.
My thoughts always consider that we are all one and if we all agree that this thing called life can be a bumpy ride why not hold on to each other and try to make it a little bit easier for all of us. This is the essence of a life. Everything that had ever happened, everyone I had ever met, everything thing that I had experienced was coming together in this one divine moment to create pure bliss. It was the pure bliss of love. It was the feeling of peace and tranquility. Mindfulness had become mine in that plaza on that day. I was free. Free of torment and free of shame and guilt. I was FREE and this music was the orchestral symphony of pure manifestation.
The night ended for Joy and me as we headed back to our room to catch a few hours of sleep before we departed for the airport. Joy and I had decided we would head to Venice to languish in all of the love that Italy had to offer. We drifted off to sleep and before we knew it morning had arrived and our next adventure awaited.
We excitedly showered and gathered our belongings as we headed out the door to catch the Metro to deliver us to the doorstep of the airport for our next destination. Joy and I would learn later, after quite a journey on the Metro, that it would have been much easier to take the Aerobus directly to the airport.
Our previous experience with the Aerobus was convenient and inexpensive so why we decided to turn our backs on something so reliable can only speak to our desires as people to always long for better. “Reliable transportation to the airport at an inexpensive price? What else you got, anything better?” The bus trip would have been no more than 20 minutes with only four stops before we got to the airport however we were sleepy after a short night of rest and we weren’t quite at the top of our travel game so we decided to try our hand at the Metro in Barcelona.
We had a short walk to our stop although we didn’t fully know which Metro to take to the airport. We found the Metro entrance and were about dive knee deep into our train journey when Joy stopped and spied a cab. Right as we were about to descend the stairs into the underground culture of a European Metro to hop on the train, a taxi driver spotted Joy, made eye contact with her, honked his horn and signaled to us that he was available for a fare if we desired a ride to what I assumed he knew was to the airport.
Joy looked at me as if to say, “Should we just take a taxi?”
“A taxi to the airport while in Europe? I don’t think so,” I responded. “We WILL take the Metro like all self-respecting travel aficionados do. Cabs are for tourists.” I politely shooed the taxi driver on his way and jaunted down the steps to continue our European“ train” adventure.
When I entered the maze of the subway system I immediately walked over to the map to try and figure out which trains we needed to take to get to the airport. After a quick perusal of the map I realized I was simply unequipped to navigate the inner workings of a Spanish train system so I decided to do the one thing that always seems to work: I played the, “I am just a dumb American card” with the man who stood behind the ticket counter who gave no evidence that he really desired to help us or anyone else for that matter. After fumbling through my rudimentary Spanish he agreed to trace the route to the airport for me. Using only his finger and some monosyllabic attempts at English (it’s his country and yet I still won’t speak the native language) he showed us the two trains we would have to take to get to the airport. I, for my part, gratefully thanked him for performing a task that was certainly not in his job description and Joy and I anxiously headed to our train so that we could get to Venice.
After our second transfer on the Metro Joy and I were about to ascend the escalator in the subway station when she lost her balance getting on and she almost fell off of the moving staircase. Joy stumbled over her luggage and never quite got her footing and she ended up safely and without any major injury, ending up on the ground of the train station. This is exactly the kind of place that a germaphobe fears, the floor of a subway station with every strain of disease known to man all on one walking surface. This was the Walmart of germs and they were being sold at very reasonable prices.
Joy told me later that on her way to the ground that she felt something stab her in her leg. I actually remembering this happening because when she went to the ground I clearly heard her say, “ouch” as she fell. Then I saw her reach into her pocket to discover the culprit of the cause of pain and almost immediately she said, “Oh no!!!!”
Alarmed I said, “What’s the matter?”
It was in this moment that Joy reached into her pocket and revealed three keys, each one dedicated to the door to the home of our host, Carlos.
“I accidentally took Carlos’ keys! I have them in my pocket,” she said as she held up the very keys that were supposed to by lying on Carlos’ kitchen table in his apartment in the center of Barcelona, which incidentally was now 45 minutes away from where we were. Our plane was scheduled to depart in about 90 minutes.
“I’m sorry,” she pleaded.
Not as sorry as Carlos, I thought.
The thought quickly passed as I could see that Joy was mortified and felt she had majorly screwed up so I realized the only course of action was dive in headfirst and figure out a way to get out of this predicament with as little judgment as possible. We called Carlos and we explained our predicament after wading through a few language barriers. Carlos was under the impression we were close to his house and could easily return the keys before leaving to the airport. When we were finally able to explain that we were out of town to return his keys his incredibly kind heart told us to just mail him the keys when we got back to the States.
As the train started up and rumbled through the underground tunnel of the subway system Joy looked over at me and said, “I have no idea how or why I took those keys. I feel like there is some reason why Carlos is staying in our life.”
I couldn’t argue with her. The Universe has a way of unfolding circumstances that we can’t always see the meaning. This is the reason why I was in such a place of acceptance with her accidentally grabbing the keys. Maybe Carols would remain in our lives and maybe this was exactly the way and the reason that we would continue our friendship. I couldn’t wait to find out.
Joy and I would get to the airport and we would get there on time. Carlos would get his keys in about 10 days and we were off to Venice, uncertain of where this adventure would take us next. Everything always works out perfectly, I thought as the train sped towards the airport, if we only trust in this process called life. Everything is divinely guided even when we can’t always see the whole picture. This is what makes this journey so magical.
Barcelona was behind us, Venice was in front of us, both holding a different place in our hearts; one of longing, one of anticipation. It’s always hard leaving something you have come to know and love. We were saying goodbye to Barcelona. It is equally as difficult to move to something new. We were saying hello to Venice.
One thing I know for sure is that Joy and I were creating moments and those moments are what comprise a life of happiness if we so desire and what could be more beautiful than this?
You are worthy. You are loved. May much love and happiness find you all today.
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