The night before

Day 0: Hostelling Society of Santa Cruz

At last, starting my winter bicycle adventure tomorrow. Down the Big Sur coast, then on to Los Angeles, San Diego… where else? Inwards. Into my heart, my mind, my soul.

After spending the last few days helping my sons relocate to Oakland, I’m sitting in the hostel in Santa Cruz. Head swimming in thoughts, heart awash in feelings, legs and back and bones aching for action, to get on my bike and ride!

Seems now more than any other time, I need this ride. And dread it. I’ve lost my bearings, recently ventured deep into the shadow, fears and uncertainty seeming as intense as the bliss and passion of my recent new love.

New counseling uncovering insights. For instance, how my life continues to provide opportunities to heal. Especially in the heat and light of the opening hearts shared between two lovers.

The veil has grown very thin. So very thin. I find myself wandering, wondering, weeping. Restless days, sleepless nights.

Searching for the way forward seems to require that I look back, into my history, dig deeper, to the roots. What will I uncover, what will I discover? Who have I been, who will I become?

I don’t know. I don’t really know. Beginner’s mind, it’s called in Zen. The place where the path to insight begins.

What I do know is that tomorrow, I will take to the road again, mount another tour of discovery, a few more hundreds of miles, pushing muscle into pedal into wheel into pavement. Gasping lungs and pounding heart as I ascend the steep climbs, my naked soul taken aback peering off the sheer cliffs, out over the unknown depths towards the infinite.

Again, I ride to lose myself. Again I ride to find myself. Again, I ride to let the long lonely miles take hold of me, transform my emotions, shake free my mind, utterly change me. Into what, or who, I don’t know. I trust, whatever I become will be a more authentic version of myself. And now, the real Ocean.

Dear reader, my sincere thanks for your companionship along the way. Namaste.

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