Denouement

Bought the Ticket, Took the Ride

The trip ends where it began, Station Sushi on La Jolla Blvd. Friends and rolls and Asahi's, the big ones. Naturally, we're recounting our favorite stories from the last couple months, the conversation is light. Then Adam and I get into the what's been gained? discussion. 

Well.

When I left, I thought that I might encounter truths and insights that would change my perspective, change my life. That every person met and every place visited would enhance my awareness of and appreciation for the good that surrounds; that these experiences would excite, inspire, enrich and endure, and they would therefore be far more valuable than the money spent and wages forgone. I really believed that. I went broke believing that.  

But then, on the road, there's the fatigue, the wax-and-wane of moods, the relentless calls of hunger and thirst and need, the intermittent pang of loneliness, the occasional failure of faith. In order to feel something larger, I had to learn to ignore myself, to just be happy and aware. This happened gradually, then suddenly (EMH). This helped:

Why think about that when all the golden land's ahead of you and all kinds of unforseen events wait lurking ot surprise you and make you glad you're alive to see?  -Jack Kerouac, On The Road

Soon enough, sights and events that previously went unnoticed began to pull at my eyes. The dogged diligence of a black busboy in New Orleans who wants a saxophone. The auto mechanic in Bethesda who wouldn't accept my tip, That's my job, son, keepin' you safe out there. A couple's excited reunion at an airport terminal in Denver. A baby's staggering first steps on Malibu Beach to the laughter of his parents, waiting to catch him when he falls. 

Maybe freedom from obligation allowed me to see and sense more, maybe belief did. Or maybe just the uncomplicated effort of driving from town to town -senses softened and prepared by all the physical beauty inbetween- and watching people helping one another, loving one another, was enough to enlighten a little. Whatever it was, I do feel changed, enlightened. And I think it will stick, but in case not...

A few thoughts I'm thinking now and wish to remember: 

People want to help. It's incredible and uplifting and everywhere. For two months, I was highly dependent on the generosity of friends and strangers, and I was not once let down. Beds, meals, directions, advice, whatever. Amazing what you can get with a smile and a promise to pay it forward. 

Go and grow. Routine is blinding, numbing. Be lightfooted and lighthearted always. Take risks, take leaps, and where there's an opening, go! Just go. There is value and virtue and poetry in the unseen. Always go. Come back. But go. 

Seek thrills but also moments. Be constantly curious and aware. Seek subtlety. Allow yourself to be moved. Ask, what about this do I wish to keep? And keep it. And the biggie, recognize expressions of love, it's a beautiful thing, and it's everywhere.

Get to know yourself. Be okay with being alone. Think about your faults, or better, think about what you admire in others and how you might improve.  The road offers sufficient time for this, and the evolving landscape hints at the err of stagnation and the possibility of transformation. 

Set your compass, enjoy the journey. Know where you're going. Be thoughtful in choosing a path and be sure the reasons are sincere. But then, enjoy the road. Turn up the volume, see and feel everything, be open to what adventures may come, make today memorable. 

About a month ago, I am flying up the East Coast, listening to Motorcycle Driveby, pointed toward New York City ...watching the long skies over New Jersey and sensing all that raw land that rolls in one unbelievable bulge over to the West Coast, and all that road going, and all the people dreaming in the immensity of it (JLK)...  Lost in my thoughts, high on hope, I'll never forget how it felt to be there, in that moment. 

I've never been so alone, I've never been so alive.