Sometimes I wonder. Why do I keep going? Why do I shiver at night on the side of a highway with nothing but a bottle of cheap whiskey to keep me warm? Why do I wake up on days and say, “ok, let’s go,” not knowing exactly where or why. Why do I keep forming relationships knowing that it’s inevitable that I’ll have to say goodbye soon after I say hello?
Then I remember. When I watch the sunset from a speeding train on the way to nowhere in particular and I cry. I cry because for that moment it all comes flooding back to me. Like that first bus ride towards chicago nearly 5 months ago when I knew living was more than having a pulse, I sat and bawled for 15 minutes because this was it. This was why I decided to see what was out there. I wanted to see the world on my own terms and I’m doing just that. I was throwing myself to the unknown possibilities of whatever laid ahead.
Yesterday I made a new friend from Holland named Mennu. I’ll more than like never see or hear from him again, but yesterday was ours. Cruising up the pacific coast highway stopping to admire this creation together. Living in the moment and stopping as we please in order to feast our hearts on the beauty that is life. I saw otters, seals, deer, elk, and even zebras. I admired raw coastal beauty shaking hands with infinite ocean while the setting sun looked down nonjudgmentally and smiled at all of us reminding us tomorrow is another day and it’ll back to watch over.
Today I woke with the sun and walked into downtown Santa Cruz just as life was starting to rise. There were folks out there prepping the streets for the onslaught of people that would come through and undo their beautifying only to wake tomorrow to do it over. I saw a begger on the corner with a fishing pole and a cup on the end. He gets it. He knows life better than most. I was approached by 2 travelers who had a stack of styrofoam cups and a gallon of milk “freshly liberated,” as they put it from the continental breakfast. Tomorrow they plan to pillage the hotel and feed everyone on the street. They get it too. Now I sit down at breakfast before heading the last 60 miles or so to San Francisco just to see what’s there. I have no where to go, no one to see, and nothing to do. And only during that time do I get it too. It’s during these moments that everything blurs and all I’m left with is the blinding clarity that is being alive. And that’s why I keep going. To keep finding those moments and filling my heart until it can’t take anymore. To take these experiences with me and share this love along the way.
Yeah. Life is good. One breath at a time.