They say a person on the verge of anaphylaxis will report an overwhelming sense of doom. I know I am not allergic to travel…but I live in worst case scenarios. I possess both a strong mistrust of the universe and for planning… a dismal combination. There is an equal amount of mistrust in my own abilities…this is a person who had to learn to ride a bike twice. The irony of which is not lost on me. There seems to be a swirling vortex of emotions that I am slipping around and trying to climb my way out of. But writing is therapy. So I plan to abuse the purpose and privilege of this blog and indulge in both confession and commitment.
It all made sense as we were driving home from a successful adventure and talking about burrowing further into the Rockies. Kicking around ideas with the open road and big sky makes committing to anything really…frighteningly easy. And, I thought maybe that’s the whole problem. I can commit to ideas, but committing to the reality of those ideas is a bit harder. Maybe this is true for everyone. But, I look in the back of the van and see two sleeping dogs and I am afraid that this reality that I know and love won’t be waiting for me when I get home. Or, I won’t make it home. These are all the worst cases I tend to gravitate towards. But then you think a bit more…and all these realities…all these IDEAS are fleeting. The universe is good at serving up constant lessons in impermanence. And that is the point. That is the point of what it is to love and to lose and to jump off a cliff and hope it all works out. That is the point of why we are doing this whole thing….all the planning and money and miles that have been poured into this trip. That plane is going to leave with or without me…the world will keep spinning with or without me.
This post is hopping around a bit and I am trying to learn the finer details of the writing process. Editing is not in my vocabulary. And the proper use of punctuation is shoddy, at best….I really like commas and use ellipses when I don’t know what is appropriate. Again, the irony of which is not lost on me. I only honor half of Hemingway’s advice. This is why I bill myself less of a writer and more of an inarticulate observer. I can see it all, but I just can’t take the time to crystalize it. I suppose that that is the purpose of this blog. To improve and take risks. To start carrying a notebook. To put it out there…broadcasting failure and success in our own version of adventure. To commit to both ideas and the realities of fully materialized ideas. Onward.