Most of my convictions lighten my load, ethical choices that allow me a healthy spirit and unburdened shoulders. Finding the balance is often easy too… dogma can extinguish the brightest of fires. A little milk in it? That’s ok. A hitch instead of a hike? No problem. Compromises for sanity, for health, for happiness. But when some goals grow roots, pulling them up can take a lot of weight.
I try to live life spontaneously, blowing with every breeze; I strive to be free, to release myself from fear; I want to love with everything I’ve got. But my passion, my direction, is to consume consciously – To create the closest thing I can to Utopia. Mostly, these ideas compliment each other: Spontaneity, Freedom, Love – Travel… by Bike… seek Truth, and you’ll have the perfect fit.
Except when they don’t, because sometimes they won’t. Find yourself on a petite island, where communities go as fast as they came, lovers leave at the height of your lust – and the only way Out, Now, is to compromise on that one principal who’s roots run through to your core.
People who match my dreams, who inspire me, humour me, reach across a world and touch me, aren’t always close at hand… but when they are, I find myself giving my everything. A thought and I tell it, a fear and I voice it, a love and I fall. So when separation finally comes – and on this solitary road I walk, it always comes – it’s a lonely emptiness that fills my soul. I havn’t found the cure, and I’m not sure it exists.
Taking a plane to follow that freedom and escape these island walls probably isn’t the answer… and severing the ethical lines of that conviction would be a costly cut. But how do I remember to believe in that?
I don’t want to always be with my head in the clouds, my nose in my maps, imagining better worlds. I want to feel the grass beneath my feet, and know that it is the greenest.