My blog has been stalled since California but I cannot say the same for my life. This has been the most difficult post to write and I can’t count the number of times I’ve begun and subsequently given up on trying to describe the most important event of my life. I’ve made all kinds of excuses to myself but I believe the greatest challenges I’ve had to overcome in writing this post can be summed up by the following ramble of internal thoughts: Do I have the courage to express my feelings honestly and also transcend my own vanity? I say I’m not a writer but at the same time I seem to be plagued by the fear of not expressing myself in a way that is “just so.” Of course anything I say is going to fall short of the reality of something so intense so I should just spit it out … right? In the end it will be up to the reader to determine if my courage succeeds in settling the ongoing struggle between self doubt and blind narcissism.
When I began my journey about nine months ago I really had no idea what the road would bring and that engendered an exhilarating feeling of the unknown. I couldn’t see any dead ends in my life, only possibilities. Nothing much has changed in that respect and the road has brought me all kinds of joy, adversity, new friends, old friends and the prospect of an exciting and fruitful future that is paralleled only by the actual happiness that continues to fill the pages of the record that is my life.
A Box of Chocolates
I’m often not surprised at all by the amazing phenomena that God has thrown in my path but there is one gift that I could have never expected. Sharing the last seven years of my mother’s life was the gift of the first part of my life for which I will be eternally grateful. The second blessing has been the love and respect of my dearest Stephanie, my beautiful wildflower of North Dakota. Stephanie was my host in Bottineau, ND whom I’d met via the hospitality network couchsurfing.com. I had intended to stop just for the night, grab a shower, and be back on the road in the morning like usual. It was not long at all after meeting Steph that I realized the Universe had other plans for me…
A side note about cojones and the problem with “carpe diem”:
When somebody gives you cliché-like, pedestrian advice to say what you feel and deal with the consequences- you should listen to them because that shit’s real. When you quote Horace don’t leave out the rest of the sentence- “carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero” – “Seize the day, put very little trust in tomorrow.”
…back to it
… so a single evening stopover turned into a week long stay because I took my own advice and simply opened my mouth and told Stephanie I didn’t want to leave because I just wanted to continue being in her presence. I frickin’ carpayed that dee-em without hesitating due to some internal monologue like, “dude, you can’t just say that. You’re insane. She’s gonna think you’re a freakin’ psycho.” Things worked out so I guess her thoughts on the subject didn’t confirm my apprehension. Either that or she’s just totally into psychos. Either way I win!
The Painted Desert
Crossing Arizona diagonally from Yuma to Fort Defiance proved to be an intense leg of my adventure both physically and spiritually. Crossing 80 miles of Apache country with no fresh water source and about 18,000 feet of climbing was just one of the challenges I faced but what I felt was far from loneliness or isolation. My mother adored the desert, especially in spring when the wild flowers and ocatillos were in full bloom. She’s with me always on the road but by this time I’d become acutely aware of another presence at my side. The presence of my sweet girl, my Stephanie, the other part of me I’d always known was out there but was never sure I would ever actually meet. At this point in my trip Steph and I had known one another for about seven months but I knew as well as I know anything that the sense of belonging and trust I’d come to know with her was to provide the foundation for a journey of a lifetime together. When I thought about how much I’d wished that she and Betty could have shared time I was left with feelings of regret. The serenity of quiet, cool desert nights cleared my mind at last and made room for thoughts born of greater mettle, one in particular being my acknowledgement of gratitude for having the love and affection of these two remarkable women. My sleeping dreams began to take the shape of something more harmonious with the waking dreams I share with the woman I love.
Facts, not Truth. Acceptance and Gratitude, not Regret:
The facts of my life are these: Betty Jo Antonio, my mother, my hero, my inspiration left this world on July 11, 2014. I lived as a shell of myself for nearly a year before embarking upon this journey to honor her and reconnect with the world. Had those events not transpired it is unlikely I would have ever been biking across North Dakota on the northernmost highway in the whole state. My life on the road has been blessed with breathtaking sunsets painted by inspired, angelic hands and visits by Betty in my dreams where she experiences the joy of seeing me happy with Steph; it is clear to me that my mother is not quite through being my mother. She didn’t die so I could meet the love of my life – she lived so I could meet the love of my life. Things are changing and I’m ready to take my place in the world again and it looks like a big part of that role is standing at Stephanie’s side. Now I’m lucky enough sometimes to get a surprise visit in my dreams- with both of my favorite women, like family, and I’m able to say to them both, “thank you for being the miracle of my life.”
Stephanie & I in SF