Whenever I go away on a bike trip, I come back changed. I feel like I come back knowing who I am, what my abilities are, and how I fit into the world around me. In essence I come back with a changed outlook on life and a little more laid back then when I left. If a waitress gets my order wrong, it is no big deal. If I have a problem with traffic, I am usually more inclined to shrug it off. If my boss is being a jerk, tend to give him a pass as opposed to jump down his throat and tell him to back the F off. I realize that it is not all about me.
The frustration comes in when I realize that no one else has changed. Everyone is strung like a high-pitched harp. Everyone is tight and myopic, and stressed, and narcissistic. It’s frustrating because I want to stay in the mindset that I usually have when I am on the trip. But instead, bit by bit I go back to, or morph into what everyone else is around me.
On a trip, there is no past. There is no future. And if there is, it is an amorphous mercurial abstract notion. There is just NOW. The sun on your face. Or the rain in your boots and down the back of your neck. It is the highway. The mountains in the distance. Or the wheat fields around you. Or the miles of sunflowers waving in the wind. Is it the people you are with frozen in that moment of Amber. That single drop of crystal. Perfect and precise. And HERE.
In those instances, you know who you are. You know where you’re going. You know where you’ve been. Sometimes that is all there is. And that is okay.
It’s all good