Just Breathe . . . believe . . .
my thoughts as I rode the back roads of Butler County (Nov 4-6, 2005)
Just Breathe . . . believe . . .
Telepopmusik's song is the soundtrack to this trip.
Stress: Wife's business partnership dissolving, its like an ugly divorce. Money is tight, to say the least. I didn't think I'd be able to get out of town this fall for a tour, but the glorious November weather called me out.
So I ride . . .
Add that to a career change for me. I'll be out here in Butler County this spring taking a class at the community college, working towards an Elementary Ed certificate. Is this the right thing for me?
So I ride . . .
The sign on the church 'Gratitude, not for what's in your wallet but what's in your heart.' Tom Waits singing 'Hold on', steady, hang in there and be true to yourself. And then Breathe . . . believe.
Reading 'The Fixer' on this trip - so you think your life is hard, how about being a Jew falsely accused of murder in 1910's Russia? So over pancakes in the little cafe I trade places for a while. Yes, life is suffering. Beautifully, tragically evoked by Malumud. But also Freedom. Freedom to choose how I feel, how I set my mind, my thoughts.
Free like the hawk I watched as I labored up the road to the top of the dam at El Dorado Lake. He flew strong across the road and directly at the dam, grazed the tops of the grass as he crested the hill then POPPED up on the air current and hovered. He had to have felt
Bird Joy!
as he hit that current and took the classic Harrier pose, floating above the grass.
So I ride . . .
Joy. Issac Hayes singing it this morning in a classic Motown jam, there's no way to not feel joy on this great camping trip. Beautiful moon last night, and a wonderful sunrise this morning. Sitting by the campfire last night, and again early this morning in the dark reading by flashlight. Later, the sky a deep blue, the sun slanting in low with the season's change. Frost this morning but quickly warmed up, deer along the gravel road at the back side of the lake, contrails criss-crossing the sky playing with the powerlines as I fly along the great back roads coming home from Latham.
So I ride . . .
So yes, life is suffering, its supposed to hurt. How long can we hold on with finances so tight? Is teaching the right move for me, how long is it going to take?
All I know is do the next right thing, acceptance, gratitude. And this weekend, riding my bike was that right thing. Joy!
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