8/18/17 - Home Sooner Than Expected

I’m guessing I’d be somewhere in Kansas right now if I had continued on the bicycle trip I planned for this year.  Tires turning mile after mile while I take in all the new places and people that are tough to avoid on a long-distance ride.  The daily dangers of weather, angry drivers, and hungry wildlife would be the rushes of adrenaline I’d be feeding off of as well as the excitement of finding the perfect baseball field to pitch my tent in, free of charge.  But I’m not dealing with any of these things right now and I’m actually super happy about it.

While last year’s bike trip was everything I hoped for and more, I couldn’t seem to take in anything else from the experience this time around.  I was on the road for about a month, traveled up through Vermont and into Canada and all the way over to Toronto by the time I’d had enough.  I was presented with an easy way home and I saw it as perfect timing, something too good to be reduced to a coincidence.  I took the ticket and in a long, overnight drive with some friends, I was back home like nothing ever happened.

There were a few moments on the drive where I was wondering if I was making the right choice.  I trained so hard for this trip and wanted so badly to feel the freedom of living on the road again.  When my 7 month long bike trip ended this past Winter, I couldn’t wait to get out and do it again.  I felt more myself on the road than I had ever felt; more confident, and more connected to nature and the powers of the universe that we’re all victims of, for better or worse.  Maybe it was the adrenaline, all the endorphins my brain was firing off with all the physical activity but I was definitely addicted to something, and I wanted more!

More....anything, you could say.  We’re all capable of achieving anything, we just need to want it badly enough.  In a short time after being home in March, I decided to push myself into other uncharted territory, online dating.  Yikes.  It even seems corny to write despite how many people I know that’ve had success with finding someone on the internet.  Dating quickly lead me to further unknown territory and before I knew it, I was in love.  I had been out to my close friends and immediate family for quite some time but, talking about my sexuality with anyone further seemed pointless when I wasn’t dating or even interested in it at that time.  I would never pretend to be anything I’m not but I must say, I’ve never been more proud of who I am than right now.

Needless to say, this new love in my life was certainly a major factor in my decision to come home early from this years bike journey.  I felt I was leading myself down a massive, unnecessary detour that would yield no benefits to what I was trying to do with my life: be a full time artist among my friends and family and my boyfriend and embrace what it means to have a home.  

Damn, love is good, love is great...someone ought to write a song about it.  I’m overjoyed to be sitting at my studio desk as I write this out, finished and unfinished pieces of art all around me, table covered in tubes of paint and pencils, a hot cuppa coffee within reach; as well as a head full of inspiration and a heart full of love.  I feel uninhibited, invincible and excited for the future.

The End of Act I

          Right back where he started, the protagonist has encountered his first great obstacle: his body.  I drew this little picture of my home the night before I left, thinking this was the last time I'd be here for a while.  Little did I know I would be back the following morning.  So, here's what happened...

          On April 5th I was dropped off in Rockport and walked to Beverly.  By the end of the day, my knees were spent.  Upon waking up the next day, I was ready to walk again.  By the time I got to my front door in Stoneham, my knees were more than spent, they were in debt.  I had already planned to spend the next couple days at home so I rested my legs and said what I thought were my last goodbyes.  On sunday April 10th I felt 100% and walked to Concord.  Once I 

sat down on the shore of Walden Pond I didn't think I'd get back up again.  I spent the night anyway, stopped by Thoreau's cabin, or at least where it once was, drank some water from the pond and listened to the train that cuts through the woods every hour while I thought about what the Hell I'm going to do next.

          My mom picked me up in the morning.  I hobbled back to the other side of Walden through the light drizzle of rain.  I wasn't alone at the pond, there was already a cluster of people shoving out into rowboats and fishing at seven in the morning.  All those lucky people, nowhere more important to be, doing exactly what they want on a Monday morning.  If I had my way I would've been on my way to Harvard, MA, continuing my trip out West but, I took the advice from a good friend and listened to what my body was telling me: go back home.

          So, now what?  I've already said goodbye to everyone (just pretend I'm not here, friends!).  I've been planning this trip out for a long time now, I can't just give up on it.  I've been resting my legs, they feel better now.  I went to the doctor and he said everything looked fine but walking might not be the best thing for my knees.  I can dig it but, I'm definitely a little discouraged.  I've been walking around wearing my backpack for months to get ready and when the time came to leave I only made it 45 miles before my body told me to turn back.

          It's amazing how many banana peels I saw in those 45 miles.  I felt like the universe was speaking to me, confirming my thought that life is too short, telling me I was doing the right thing at the right time in the right place.  I certainly couldn't pass these peels off as mere coincidence after getting my tattoo right before I left.  Maybe this was all supposed to happen.  Maybe just doing this on foot was the wrong idea.

          The thought of taking my bike has entered my mind.  Originally I didn't want to have the burden of the bike in case something broke and I needed to fix it but, at this point fixing a bike would be a whole lot easier than fixing my legs if I wore them down to nothing.  This trip was never about walking, it was just about heading out West and seeing the country from a different perspective than a car or a train.  The important thing is to not give up on this idea I've had in my 

head.  I got this little bag from my friends at the Zen center with the all-important message, 'Never Give Up' written on it.  This little token seems extra important now and it reminds me of something Joan said the night I stayed in Beverly.  She said, 'There's no such thing as failures, just new discoveries.'  Nothing can be known until we try; I'm glad I found out I need to do something differently while I was still close to home.  I know something will work out but, until then I'll just enjoy being home for a little longer.