I suppose I should preface this edition of The Dude's Philosophical Thoughts with the disclaimer that I, along with anyone and everyone else, have no idea what The Truth is about what it all really means; only what it means to me, and maybe even more importantly, only what it means to me right now.
I had attempted to resist intellectualizing the experience of those seven days under the illusion that it would be impossible. It will be, by nature, impossible to define and, in fact, "language experiences its limits in trying to describe what it’s like to ride on a motorcycle." (Steven Alford) And that has never been more true, especially when considering the intensity of the experience of doing so for a somewhat extended period of time. I can only imagine the profound effect it has had on those who have done it for any longer than we did; and for those people, I have nothing but the utmost respect.
There are, of course, many factors that can affect the experience; not only the duration of time, but the motorcycle, the roads, the weather, the motivation, the dedication, the conviction, the luck, and probably most importantly, the company. Nothing is ever just about the thing itself; and more often than not it's about the people we are surrounded with.
Besides the personal aspect, I don't know what it is about traveling, and specifically, traveling via motorcycle. It has been expounded upon thoroughly, and by authors much more adept than I, nevertheless, this is my attempt to describe my perspective.
I've described, in the past, the internal illusion of defying gravity while riding; the idea that we are, by some miraculous event, defying the very fundamentals of the physical world. This thought, while every bit as relevant as before, now seems incomplete and insufficient. That rule-breaking feeling of scientific disregard is congruent only with the characterization of the sole experience of riding, in and of itself. But, as stated, nothing is ever just about the thing itself. I am almost forced to draw a comparison to the adventurer who packs all he needs into a backpack and straps it to his back for days or weeks on end; the purity of living not only with only what you have, but also with the dependence on the performance of a machine. In that case, the machine is the adventurer's own body; programmed and designed for the purpose of walking. Then ensued are the mental and emotional debates and struggles; constantly confronted with discomfort, fatigue, and wherewithal. The hiker must persist and withstand this self-inflicted contest in order to accomplish not only his geographical, but also his internal goals; in many cases, he must do this in order to survive.
Similarly, traveling via motorcycle tests our ability to withstand. We are just as the hiker; exposed, vulnerable, and alone. There are no guarantees that we will reach our destination, and no guarantees that we will even be alive at the end of the day. There is nothing to protect us, or the journey, except ourselves and our ability to perform and endure. It is intermittent and unexpected, and often completely surprising when all of this seemingly impossible pursuit of adventure presents itself in overwhelming awe. These are the moments in which we are reminded of why we embarked in the beginning; these are also the moments which are actually impossible to describe. An author can organize his words to convey the ideas, the goals, the hardships, and even some of the pleasures, but the one thing he, without question, cannot do is share the feeling with anyone except the person who was standing next to him when the feeling happened.. and even then, it isn't the words that remind them of it; it's just knowledge, a memory, and the experience.
Things have changed drastically since our return. For me personally, the experience was a reminder of a philosophy I used to subscribe to religiously, and beyond that, an exploration into taking that philosophy further. I never used to debate about pursuing exactly what it was that I desired. Regardless of what it was or the outcome of the pursuit; a job, an experience, a direction, a motivation, a creative endeavor, a friendship, or a relationship.. there was never any reason not to pursue it with absolute dedication and conviction. Things were so clear then, and they have become so again. The ideal is directly parallel to the actions of a child; pure, immediate, and complete. They express themselves in this way consistently; completely and fully, and are then able to return to solace and contentment almost immediately. A child has no reservations and also no life experience to draw upon and therefore, no fear. I suppose it's the occasional mortal fear while riding that reminds me of this;.. reminds us that we're truly alive, and that this is a very short life.
I have been at a loss for words when asked how my vacation was, and eventually realized that the only reason I was at a loss for an answer was in light of the fact that it was the wrong question. Traveling has never really been vacation for me, and there certainly wasn't a reason for that to change this time. In fact, the journey we made wasn't a vacation at all, but actually a glimpse into reality, and a reminder that while there isn't a lot of time in this life for trivial things, there certainly is no time for deliberation, doubt, biding time, biting tongues, or complacency in any form.
For the regular readers of this blog, and specifically those who remember reading my post entitled "True Love", I was doubtful that the trip on which we were about to embark would exceed, or even meet the expectations I had at the time, and in retrospect, I can't believe I didn't see it coming. It was undoubtedly the most profound experience I've had in my 27 years on this earth; and although it has created an almost uncontrollable spiral of thoughts, dreams, goals, and emotions, and made my days since then go by in incredible agony. I can't wait to do it again. Next time will be for the greater good, and the next time will be for a greater purpose. Next time will be the beginning.
So what is it that it all means? It means that everything is valuable except those things about which we are not passionate. It means that the journey is the destination. And it may even hold the answer to the meaning of life; the experience of being alive.
