4/13- Exodus: Part II

I am in a weird way today. For the nuts and bolts of the day I refer you to Todd's post on today, I'm feeling too funky to get into that. Their is a strangeness in my blood that I'm having a hard time processing to the point that this was almost just going to be an email to Ang, but I like making my innards public when I can. Its the dare devil in me.

In a very brief, blotchy, poorly written scratch note to myself while riding along here I did figure some of that feeling out. Todd's right in his post when he says that leaving this way on the veggie bus is very different for me than for him, and much for his cited reasons as well. Hitching and riding is familiar to him and not me so much.

When I caught that first ride with Frank back in Fountain, CO I felt like I needed to entertain him with banter for the free ride. We got along fine regardless, but I do remember distinctly feeling that. That second brief ride with Dan and those folks felt less so, probably due to how short it was, but again I felt like while they hauled me I should tell stories to make it worth their while. Even at Todd and Shalain's this feeling perpetuated, though less so since they're friends, but it is something ingrained in me.

I've come to understand, over my family research done since my parents divorced 20 years ago, that my Dad suffered from the same thing. I believe my Nana may have also endured a similar form of this. Perhaps its a simple enough thing of an odd take on hospitality, but it skews how I relax in situations where I'm on the receiving end of hospitality, or just generosity in general. It was a lesson I was continually learning on my walk, and was given excellent council on by a lady in Alabama. She said the more I turned down offers like money, food, etc. the more I was inhibiting generosity from spreading.

So for today, this great embarkment to get on the road, with Todd, with that sense of fully leaving this time, finally, I see myself as still in the home of another. I found myself writing in my personal journal that I really just wanted to be in a No Man's Land with others who have just as much claim to be there as I do, and therefore can do whatever I please with out feeling in the way, intrusive, or ungrateful.

All of this sounds like a great misnomer for how this ride is. Minus this feeling, which has no logical bearing on anything going on, I'm loving this ride. Devin and Leif both are really easy going and happy just doing their own thing. I understand its my own neurosis giving me this feeling, and hopefully I'll feel normal tomorrow morning. The bus is quite fantastic as well. Riding through this desert landscape in their converted 60's bus with good, funky music going from jazz to some of the local bands I know from Denver is an amazing way to unwind from work life and think again.

That's actually one of the funny things meeting up with these guys. It turns out they are friends with my friends Laura and Maria from Denver. They're all musicians and I assume know each other from touring, so I get to hear some of my favorite songs as well, that I didn't I'd hear until I unloaded my storage unit again.

All and all life is good, its just the process of decompressing. I didn't think I was going to have to go through this a second time after those strange first few days of walking out of Colorado Springs, but alas this too shall pass.

Tomorrow I anticipate being a bit more with it and comfortable in the bus. Like I said, I'm not exactly uncomfortable now, just itchy of sorts. Its an old issue of mine, and a persistent one, but one I think trips like this help erode away.

Click here for Todd's perspective.