[x_section style=”margin: 0px 0px 0px 0px; padding: 45px 0px 45px 0px; “][x_row inner_container=”true” marginless_columns=”false” bg_color=”” style=”margin: 0px auto 0px auto; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_column bg_color=”” type=”1/1″ style=”padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_text]Hanging up, I can’t shake the heavy feeling. Try to write for a bit, but get distracted. Work on reorganizing gear, but lose interest. Sit on the porch. Smile as Baylor works on a bone. Stare into the quaking aspens as tears cloud my vision.
I can’t get the phone conversation out of my head. It’s not that I’m unhappy about the news he shared. I don’t wish things were different. I’m eternally grateful and thoroughly excited for the adventure and life I’m building. And yet. There’s a part of me that grieves the death of the life I thought I would live. That can’t believe the existence we built for eleven years is so far gone. Feeling a final piece of my heart cracking open I give in to the pain and tears.
I’d always thought life was like riding a train. Study the tracks, pick an endpoint and suddenly it would be an easy all aboard to your desired destination. No surprise detours, just a simple and direct route to the idealized future.
In reality, life is a wild ride down an unpredictable river. Sometimes it’s fast and raging. Other times it’s slow and meandering. There’s no point in fighting your way upstream, but a few well executed strokes can make for a more successful run. The hard part is knowing when to paddle and when to just sit back and let the current take you to new places.
Needing a change of scenery to break the melancholy, I head to a local coffee shop. Standing in front of the wall of tea I read each label carefully. The sight of a mango black tea transports me back to Ocean Beach. To the evening years ago that Baylor and I arrived in San Diego. Not knowing anyone in the city, I headed straight for a dog beach. Laughed as Baylor frolicked in the sand and wondered what the hell I was going to do with my life.
It never crossed my mind that I’d be on a motorcycle-sidecar adventure in a couple years. That people from around the world would come along for the ride. That I’d have the courage to take a trust fall and fully believe in the goodness of humanity. That in doing so strangers would quickly turn to friends and change my life entirely.
Peppermint tea in hand, I remind myself not to worry overmuch about the idealized future. To paddle when inspired. To enjoy the ride no matter what. There are – and always will be – a slew of unanswered questions. But as Joseph Campbell said,
The big questions is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure.
98 days down. Many to come.[/x_text][/x_column][/x_row][/x_section]