My one goal for today was to have a bit of time out. No work, just a few chores to do. So I wanted a bit of time just for me, doing something I wanted to do, not something I just found myself doing.
So I took the bike out - it needed some fresh fuel and a bit of a run - and went around the corner to the petrol station and a coffee shop. I sat, reading a book, having coffee and cake, and felt a little more like I thought I should.
It was a beautiful afternoon, I could see it from my seat near the big front window of the shop. And I could feel it in the air. One of those stunning early autumn afternoons, at the time of year just before the leaves start to turn. It could have been spring, but the air tasted different, hinting at the coming cold, inviting you to enjoy the remaining warmth.
So I did. I finished up my coffee, dog-eared the page, and got back on the bike.
It's less than 2km from the coffee shop home.
So I took a little detour.
Sadly, this isn't a recount of some epic. I'm not being ironic, I'm not being subtle. It really was just a little detour, a few extra backstreets, just around the local neighbourhood.
But with the wide streets, the towering trees lining the way, and the afternoon sun filtering through their still (just) green leaves... It was a huge detour.
For just a second I lost my breath and was somewhere else.
I was back in France. Back on the old upright baby Bandit GSF600.
I was in a foreign land, conscious of the fact I didn't speak the language, with little more than a tent, some dehydrated soup, and a few euros in my pocket.
I was lost, not entirely sure where I was, just a vague idea. I was nervous, anxious, not sure where I was going to end up. The light was fading, and I knew I had to find somewhere to go before the sun disappeared completely.
And I had no idea where that would be. I was a little hesitant, because I understood the urgency, the need to find my way, make a decision with the little time I had left.
But I was only nervous because I was free. For those few moments I was free. I could have been anywhere. I was in charge. And that's a big responsibility, being in charge, dealing with consequences. But more than anything it is liberating. You become so much sharper when you're the boss of your life. You breathe differently, because you choose to breathe. You have a sense of purpose, a need to survive, a desire to seek something better, somewhere grander, not because you are dissatisfied with where you are, but because you want to keep moving, keep advancing, keep experiencing new things, keep discovering. It's about surviving so you can begin thriving. It's about living with full awareness of where you are, and only a faint hint of where you will be next, but knowing that you will be the one to get yourself there, and nothing else matters. It's acceptance, it's achieving something new every day, and knowing you can face anything, but still being alert to the fact that you guide this vehicle, you choose your destiny.
As I took a breath of the autumn air, with its memories of summer sun and its warning of winter to come, I ...
I ...
I turned down a street I knew. The sun was behind me, I was heading home. And I lost that blissful, joyful, uplifting directionlessness.
I need a new adventure.
Or perhaps I need to learn to rediscover that feeling in my daily life.
I just need to live again.
