There's no secret to the evolution of the damned, the scared, or the trapped. We, as a people, have grown into a world filled with tasks and movement. I started writing for paychecks when I was sixteen years old, and I was attempting to finish the gasping breath of provincially mandated education here in Vancouver. Since then, there has been no inhale of relaxation greater than that of a few minutes. Last year (2016) I took my first ever completely detached vacation since beginning life as a professional over twelve years prior. It lasted ten days. It was glorious.
But, back in "the real world" and the grind or weight from an ever-revolving door of expectation, bills, and reliability, it was all washed away.
It's no wonder adults fiend for their next vacation, or attempt to daydream about their previous ones.
I'm not shocked by this. In fact, the realization came early that the harder I worked, and more I produced, the better off I'd be. This fact does, however, bring more light to the fantasy and addiction of piloting a motorcycle. There's an ever-present need for escapism. Sure, there are those looking for a reckless hobby, and truthfully, this is a fantastic one. But I don't condone idiotic behavior. Especially if it takes place in public streets.
People with the orientation that motorcycling "gives them peace" have found something that few ever will, in any situation. It's an immediate solution to the absolutely melting desire to remove one's self from a world most of us are living in. It can feel forced to some, essential to others, but there's no denying that life in the 21st century is filled to the brim with things that need your time, attention, and a stake of your being.
Riding has opened up so much of that cage for me.
Be Water, My Friend
I don't need to spend thousands to disappear to the Yucatan. I don't have to run. I just have to ride. I can't put my finger on the math that allows a disconnect, while being so in it, that it's nearly unavoidable. Yet, stuck in traffic, fighting off the sun, I am not living in the world that plays with my sanity. I am, instead, afforded the opportunity to vanish in plain sight.
I'd rather be stuck in traffic on a motorcycle, than making good time on a bus.
This is something I've gone into detail about before, but the sensation of being so absolutely wrapped up in your current situation that your mind becomes clear of life's other things is astoundingly addicting. It's been nearly a week since I've ridden a bike, and I feel empty inside -- shout out to my riding school High Gear for continuously loaning me motorcycles from their fleet.
*see a photo of you, or your ride? Comment below and I'll send you a hi-rez version of the image!*