Asilo@Denver

ASILO: A MEETING ON THE

My Uber ride from Colfax Avenue in Lakewood to Denver Airport became more than a journey across the city. It became a moment of reflection.

My driver, Asilo, was nearly sixty. He had graduated in economics from the University of Colorado, raised four grown children, and built a substantial business in residential mortgages. But things turned upside down and  life had taken him somewhere very different.

While working in North Carolina, he received an invitation from his son to attend his wedding. He had no savings for the trip, so he found another way: he made his Volkswagen his home and set out to live on his own terms.

His car is fitted with solar panels, and he carries a bicycle. He showers at the YMCA and uses a laundromat to wash and dry his clothes. He earns a living driving for Uber and teaches yoga professionally. His beloved pet, who had been with him for fourteen years, has passed away.

Asilo told me he does not feel lonely. He enjoys his own company—and the people he meets along the way. He and his wife ended their marriage amicably. He speaks warmly of her new husband, who gets along with their children and has two children of his own.

Raised Christian, Asilo now feels drawn to Buddhist and Tibetan philosophy. He eats one meal a day, has given up alcohol and tobacco, and makes time for yoga, cycling, and walks in open spaces. He is considering a job at a small bank, while hoping to keep living simply and freely.

He had never heard of Singapore, though he knew of India. We talked, took a selfie, and he kindly shared his contact details.

I told him, “You are an amazing person, and you live an amazing life. I’m glad I met you.”

He replied, “It was so nice to meet you, and I’m grateful for the brief time we shared together. I believe that everyone we meet has been perfectly intended into our lives precisely on time.”

Would I meet Asilo again? I don’t know.

But I keep thinking about what our brief meeting left with me: the courage to live simply, the freedom to choose one’s own path, and the ability to move through life without bitterness—carrying love, compassion, and gratitude instead.

Perhaps that is what people mean when they say, “Be alone, but not lonely.”

And perhaps the question is not whether Asilo’s life resembles mine in every way. It is whether something in his outlook speaks to me. I think it does.