the last time i wrote on here i think i was maybe on my 2nd day of the trip. from lake sylvia, i pedaled westward toward the coast, reaching the ocean at westport. seeing the open ocean again was an incredible feeling. i sat on the widest, grayest beach i had ever seen, and watched the birds fly south for winter. and no one was around for miles. it's interesting touring through these beach towns in the off-season. they feel grey, damp, lonely.
the following day i rode south, 55 miles along the coast toward bay center. this day was pivotal to say the least. for one, i encountered and fixed the first flat of the trip:
which was rewarding to say the least, but more importantly, somehow on this day i finally started to feel completely comfortable, happy and content with being by myself.i was pedaling along in probably my thirtieth mile of the day, thinking about why i like being around other people and why i like being alone. i like being alone because when you're alone, you can do whatever you want. you can be as fast or as slow or sit for as long as you want, and there is no one there waiting for you, or pushing you or pulling you in any direction than the one in which you want to exist. and i like being around people because i like talking and interacting and hearing stories and sharing my stories, and being affirmed in the the things that i say and above all, i love laughing with other people. and this is when i realized how rarely i laughed when i was alone. and why not? why cant we laugh--loud and uproariously laugh--when we are alone? and so i did. i just fucking let go and i found funny things all around me and also in my mind and i laughed with myself, and i talked aloud to myself as well, which is great, you should try it. and i sang songs, and i spoke aloud to people who i love who were far away from me and i'm not sure if they heard me or not but maybe they did. and somehow, in the twenty five miles to bay center i learned to really truly enjoy being alone and it wasn't all serious or lonely or sad, in fact at times it was downright hilarious and so exploding with energy i wanted to scream, and so i did. and it was the best damn time i ever had with myself.
there are more stories to tell, but john and caitlin are awake now and john's making toast downstairs and it smells freaking bomb.
ciao.
5 comments:
Nice stolen bag on the front of your bike. It's fun to be alone isn't it? When you like yourself.
gelb
1. good work
2. how can toast smell bomb? its toast
3. talking to other people and laughing out loud is healthy and acceptable. once you start creating imaginary creatures, naming them and scolding them, you may have gone too far. im speaking from experience. i'll tell you about my giraffe named gerrard sometime.
4. happy trails
You pretty much fully rule! But your sore arse forefits it's right to complain as long as it keeps parking itself on that circa 1965 Brooks seat. I just took an Advil in empathy. We should've maybe met in the saddle aisle!
you are awesome.
ejk: toast is awesome too.
You are a rockstar. Happy adventures! :)
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