Do not travel. Stay home and be thankful for what you have. That’s an order. Being told what to do and following orders isn’t for me. Following orders or rules has been a long-standing problem after years of defying authority. I’ve been travelling during the pandemic. Like anyone else who has been breaking the rules, I can justify my actions. My pockets are loaded with hand sanitizer and rubber gloves. I go alone even though I’m surrounded by groups of people.
I wash my feet constantly and stay six hands apart from everyone. Justifying my journey by being educated about the virus and aware of my surroundings doesn’t make it right. I drove across the country in March to ensure the safety of a person I cared for. When State and National Parks reopened, I hopped on my bike and camped to enjoy the authenticity of nature. I went to Sturgis on my motorcycle to escape and write a story for my blog site. Being a motorcycle club of one made it easy for me to justify travelling for weeks on back roads while limiting contact with people.
Riding for hours gives you time to think and think and think. At times, my thoughts would turn dark. People close to me justified violating my trust and love the same way I justified breaking the rules of staying home. Family, friends, government leaders, doctors, police, and media, made humankind more unreliable as the pandemic magnified an unsettled society.
While hospitals filled with victims and people attacked each other over politics, religion, and racial issues; I replaced worn tires on my motorcycle. How could I justify cavorting around the country while businesses and lives were lost?
The journey introduced me to individuals who hid from their responsibilities. People who justified a lack of compassion and their duties with fear or tedium. The days spent on the motorcycle reminded me of my own absence of accountability. Guilty of not following orders made me a member of that unreliable and unsettled society. How do I justify skipping around the country judging and comparing?
My most recent journey put me in the company of several United States Military combat veterans. Warriors who can’t run away from the horror of firefights or the indelible physical and mental scars of battle. In the presence of these men and women a feeling of guilt consumed me. Again, it was about me, my guilt, my ego and how I played while they suffered and worked for my freedom. How dare I compare my thoughts of suicide, the loss of my friends and symptoms of head injuries from playing with toys. My near-death experiences involved skateboards, snowboards, and motorcycles. These soldiers made my romp around the world possible.
On a day that we are asked to be thankful for something, I’m thankful for the men and women who sacrificed for my freedom. The combat veterans I spoke with ensured me they would charge into that battle again so I could keep playing. Soldiers who hugged me so tight I could feel me spine touch my chest. Troopers that reminded me to chin up and that guilty comparisons get in the way of healing. Again, these individuals battled for my freedom, now it was my mental freedom.
What are you thankful for today? How do you justify complaining about anything? Who gives you or I the right to play and romp with friends and family? The men and women who fought for your rights and safety need to be remembered and thanked every day.
Give thanks to those who made todays breath possible.