learning from the road

I learned nothing new on my 10-day-short-of-four-year voyage.

No epiphany. No sudden flashes of illumination. No becoming.

No confronting fears, particularly.

No need to find myself.

Instead there was a ruthless stripping back of the superfluous and inessential to reach my basic self.

I was in a remarkably fortunate position pedalling out on Day 1, money stashed for more than a year, and for the first time in decades, no responsibilities, no obligations, and, what’s more, no expectations.

One thing I understood was that my life, intense and challenging for the most part, was flitting by.

I’d done my Melbourne thing for a long while and had worked tenaciously, consciously, even ferociously, to the point where although successful, mastering the intricacies of modern work and life in the big city, it was clear I’d soon be in a repetition cycle, getting comfortable, cosy, in routine, the known.

Sure life was a challenge, just like everyone else, but I was balanced on a cusp: continue happy enough, or, do something different. Two major work projects were winding down after years of focus, my relationship spectacularly combusting, her thinking fundamental change was required on my part, conformity a significant component, not realising how radical I was in agreement, at least on the change part.

Instead of the same old, the familiar, I launched along a less well travelled path.

This is my story …