This blog began as a way to chronicle my experiences with Bike & Build, but after returning to the real world it has remained a place for stories, occasional reflection, and whatever adventures remain. Though the original journey is over, there are many more to be had.
2013:
As a musician, there's always a song that relates to specific seasons of life. Since my mid-college crisis that lasted sophomore year until now, I've identified with Noah Gundersen's Moss on a Rolling Stone, and this remains true now more than ever.
This trip has so much potential, and means so much. To accomplish the feat of biking from coast to coast. To make a dent, no matter how small, in the affordable housing crisis. To build relationships and engage with strangers. These are all noble goals. But maybe goals aren't all that they're set up to be. Maybe focusing on the end and building up expectations will take away from the journey.
I've been doing everything that is required of me for 21 years. In May, I'll graduate with a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration. For my whole life I've worked hard in school, been involved in extra curriculars, and have done my best to sit at the right tables and talk to the right people to eventually find myself...in the dreary day to day dredge that is some kind of boring desk job. I've been so focused on the goal of some kind of success, that I've missed out enjoying the present moment.
Eventually, something will have to change.
Enter Gundersen lyrical analysis.
The more you wonder / more you dream / the more you pray it starts to die,
And it does / though it kicks you in the side / and it does / though it takes a little time."
I've been running from anything that did not fit the cookie-cutter idea of success that my high school classmates, family, and business school advisors had defined for me. I've been fighting this need to please everyone, and this need to do what is expected of me for years, and it finally caught up to me when I saw a former classmate post about Bike & Build via social media. I knew that something had to change, and what better time to make drastic alterations to one's pace of life than the summer after graduation.
"I believe home is a place that I will get some day / if someone just will hold me,"
I've been fairly comfortable my entire life. I've been well educated, well fed, and I've always had a place to call home, whether I've chosen to refer to it as such or not. Not everyone has the luxury of having a house that is a home, and a home that one could be proud of. To work with organizations that are working to provide the most basic need of a home is truly humbling, and hits close to my home as I've been so interested in disaster relief for my entire life, but especially since the Nashville Floods of 2010 displaced several of my friends and family members.
"I believe hope is a thing that I will find some day / if someone just will show me,I believe love is giving, going, gone / come back to kiss me on the forehead,"
As life as a student is drawing to an end, I hate to admit that I have felt utterly hopeless. Seeing the blocks of my schedule overlapping and knowing that I am running myself ragged to simply meet the expectations of others is something that I can no longer do. I've found no joy in my academic accomplishments which once excited me, and I've lost interest in anything that delays my ability to rest and care for others. I even coined the term "#businessschooldropout" to express via twitter how I really felt about selling my soul to a world of profitability.
This summer, I'll slow down. The rhythm of life will change, and I find hope in this change. I find hope in the prospects of new relationships formed in the slowing down. I find hope in the opportunity to think, and to think beyond the necessary ideas that get me to some kind of goal, but rather to have the time to examine my motives and my passions and what drives me.
This summer, I'll serve. I'll love the strangers we meet. I'll love the riders that will become my team and my family. I'll revisit what it means to unswervingly loyal to people rather than aspirations. I'll get to know stories rather than accomplishments. And I will hug tightly.
"I believe moss on a rolling stone / is better than the rust that's growing on my home."
Read moss as Laura Lynn, rolling stone as bicycle, rust as this stagnant and unsustainable way of living.
No comments:
Post a Comment