Fear on the unknown — Somethings’ Coming!

As I wake up each day and look for my direction and tone for this story, I have a feeling several of these “morning rants” are going to read more like a diary. I apologize in advance for this. I hope within a week or so to stumble upon my path, much like the ride I am on over these 2 weeks.

I am on a two-week ride with little to no direction. Usually I am cranking out hours and miles and going, going, going. But on this trip I am taking each day or each couple of days as they come. Today, as I write I am waking up in Helena, MT and on my way to Glacier National Park.

Lastly, I want to dedicate today’s thoughts to my awesome Phia — heading to her first day of 7th Grade this morning!

Fear of the unknown

Could it be? Yes, it could. 
Something’s coming, something good, 
If I can wait! 
Something’s coming, I don’t know what it is, 
But it is 
Gonna be great!

— Thank you for that Stephen Sondheim!

It is difficult to say if the traveler is going towards something or running away from something. The traveler themselves, may not even know. Inconceivable you say? No? Well you might if you were Vincini from the Princess Bride’s. I believe, that in some cases, the traveler is perhaps not so brave, as others may believe, for seeking out new adventures. They may simply be so paralyzed by their current environment that they seek out new trails towards salvation regardless of their fears. Feeling that anything is better than staying stagnant.

I am but a pilgrim. A traveler. A soul at unrest. I have been this way for as long as I can remember. As a child I sought to leave my hometown as soon as possible . . . by anyway possible. In my case, as a Rock Star . . . or so I thought. I did eventually get a music degree, but my life has taken on far more turns and adventures than I ever could have expected. As I have gotten older I can see how the tapestry has come together, but it has taken a lot of unexpected surprises to get me to where I am today.

Lyle Lovet has an album called I LOVE EVERYBODY. I can completely appreciate the sentiment, but admit that my fear of people; my fear of being embraced, my fear of well . . . everything, has haunted me for a very long time. I often hide it well, so this occasionally comes as a surprise to folks. In High School, my mother really pushed me to join the drama club. She insisted I did not have to try to get on stage, but could just join the crew. The only “Crue” I knew began with Motley and while I didn’t smoke, the idea of Smoking in the Boys room was so much cooler than the fear of an audition.

She was so wrongly convinced that it would be good for me, or so my 14- year-old brain thought. What I learned to my horror was that just to be in crew you still had to audition. This made no sense. I was terrified. I wanted to leave. But I didn’t. I still vividly remember sitting outside the theater doors waiting for my turn. I was quick to tell the drama teacher I had no interest in being on stage and was auditioning simply to get on to the lighting or sound crew. She nodded and smiled in a way that conveyed, “yep, I’ve heard it all before” before saying, “then just read the lines and we can get past this part” I did. Being an always-right teenager, my suspicions were proved right. I was terrible and thankfully given my assignment on lighting crew. Unfortunately, not before also being given the role of Bobby #2, a cop in some play that I don’t remember the name of . . . I also don’t remember if I had any lines, but I do remember dragging my yet to be friend, Dave Doorman off stage during the big arrest scene.

While I enjoyed working behinds the scenes, my 5 seconds of stage time had me hooked. I wanted to be on stage. In the very next production I ended up as a supporting actor. I had to memorize lines. I had to sing. I had to kiss the prettiest girl in drama, Liz Nagengast, a girl I had known all of my short life. As I think back on it now, she may have been the first non-family member I ever kissed.

So what does any of this have to do with adventure travel and motorcycle riding? Well I think I have taken that audition into every experience of my life. I am still afraid of every unopened door. I still fear the unknown. I am logical enough to know that things will usually work out fine, and that fear just keeps things interesting. But I also hesitate more often than I wish I would. But on the good days, I just get over it quicker. I do my best to push past it as quickly as possible. To jump in . . . to get going . . . to experience the next great thing right.

I am definitely not that confident guy who walks into a room with a pastor or politicians hand, arm stretched out shaking hands and kissing babies. Occasionally, I can play that role. But inside I am still a 14-year-old kid afraid of asking to be part of the drama club . . . afraid of being rejected . . . afraid to kiss Liz Nagengast . . . afraid of looking foolish.

What I know now that I have kids of my own, is that very rarely does fear itself actually kill you. It may feel like it. But it often rewards your courage to push through and past it. I want my girls, Sophia and Nya to have the courage to do whatever it is they want as they grow up. I don’t want them to ever sell out, give up on their dreams, or to take the “easy way out” because of fear.

Sure, their dreams may change, and that is ok too. but I don’t want them to ever give up. I can tell them this until I am blue in the face, but the reality is, the best thing I can do for them is lead by example. So with fear, hesitation and just a hint of bravado I leap forward into as many adventures as possible. The latest is putting this story of my journey across America into words. But is really my journey through my whole life, so far. The ride across America is only a part of it. The part that got me to pause and reflect. Like any journey it has a beginning. Hopefully, an interesting middle . . . and inevitably an end . . .

Or maybe not, perhaps this is just an extended middle section. Either way I know . . .

Around the corner, 
Or whistling down the river, 
Come on, deliver 
To me! 
Will it be? Yes, it will. 
Maybe just by holding still, 
It’ll be there!

— Thanks again Mr. Sondheim!