what i learned on the road and how to not assign meaning to things and an otherwise horridly nonsensical post about post-trip musings and how difficult it is to learn anything much less learn about what one learned
i'm home again. i think about how hard it is to assign meaning to things. when i was on the road i didn't need meaning. i took one pedal stroke at a time. i slept when i was tired. i ate when i was hungry. i made decisions, one at a time, about how to budget my cash. my cel phone was my connector to The World i Knew and i hated it for that.
every day was a fresh start. if the day before had been bad, this day would be better, i knew. and it was. i think it was frank sinatra who said he pitied people who didn't drink, because how they felt when they woke up would be the best they felt all day. for me, how i felt when i went to sleep was the best i had felt all day.
i focused on one thing, seeing. i saw people. dogs. churches. cities. skyscrapers. leaves. fireants. flames. exhaust. most of all i saw myself.
it's hard to not see yourself when you engage in successive 12 hour monologues. i tried to think. then i gave up and just talked. it was better that way.
i of course regret i'm not still on the road. this unsustainable lifestyle of frantic multi-tasking and technological connectedness was...is not healthy. not for me, not for you. but neither is one of disconnectedness and loneliness and running away from everything that's real. this trip was not that for me. i thought it might be so i made sure i had to depend on people to get through. and i did. i ate other's food and water, i camped in their backyards, i used their phones, i accepted their money.
in statesboro i met a german lady teaching german to homeless people. i got to practice my (lousy) german and meet some of the nicest people i had the pleasure of knowing in the south. i'm hesitant to talk about people in the south for the most part, because i know the bad experiences i had with a lot of people are atypical of others. still, i love me some stories, and you know people on the street got the word. i could have listened for hours.
hanging out with matt and ashley in savannah was an epic time. we could have swapped travel stories all night fueled by pizza and chocolate and ghost stories. for me it was a time of reconnecting with civilization after 3 weeks of wilding. so i took a shower, brushed my teeth, slept in a bed. it felt ok. we hit the cemetery, the beach, the bike shop.
i got a box and put my bike in it. i said goodbye to savannah and the south. then i took greyhound north. it stopped in richmond. i got another bus. it stopped at DC. when i saw pittsburgh i just started smiling from ear to ear. i knew this place, i knew where stuff was and i knew who i was.
and that, my friend, is the only important thing. all our life we travel. we stay true to ourself and to the ancient order of things and to the human community and we will be OK.
so what did i learn? i learned couches are better than beds. i learned small towns in the south are really just three houses and i learned water out of convenience store bathrooms tastes better than $3 bottled h2o. i learned the german word for asshole. i learned asians look out for asians and that it's totally worth it to buy the sunday newspaper just for food coupons. i learned that burger king dumpsters are the worst in the world, beating mcdonalds, wal mart, and 7 eleven. i learned a broken seat stay is not the end of the world, and laundromats are dangerous places. i learned how to beat mosquitos at their own game but to always have a healthy respect for sand gnats. i learned to be quiet when the sun sets. i learned people are nicer on sundays. i learned schwalbe tires are totally worth their weight in gold. i learned never to trust squirrels, even baby ones that look like they have no interest in all in your reese's cups. i learned to sleep well and dream better.
basically, i learned how to go crazy and come back. and it was one hell of a time.
