So I reckon the halfway point deserves a special post. I thought hard about what title to give this post that attempts to give an impression of the successive states of mind I went through.
Nowhere near with no end in sight
That would have been the title I would have used at the beginning of the trip. Never had I been so unsure, full of doubt and skeptical towards a project of mine. But I just gritted my teeth, and got on with it, step by step, ignoring the thousand good reasons that would make it impossible and concentrating only on putting things together. Like a puzzle I couldn’t believe would ever look like the picture on the box, but that I kept adding pieces to until I sat in my saddle and pedalled the first tentative strides into the uncertainty of the unknown.
Somewhere with no end in sight
And so I found myself taking every day, every stop, every city, like a small step yet again. I made mistakes, I was unaware. I discovered and understood. I reflected and did better. Found a routine, a place outside of the world, parallel to it. When everybody was static yet busy I was passing. And people liked me for a small moment of incredulity, maybe even amazement. I was a forward movement, cyclic in scope, that cut through the whirlpools of life.
Everywhere with no end in sight
The free-wheeling feeling that I am nowhere and everywhere at the same time.
Anywhere with no end in sight
And I am immersed in this parallel path, counting to myself of ways I could have gone. I don’t sing often but I’ve got music playing in my head all day. I speak to few people but learn new ways of talking. I take what I’m not supposed to but always leave something behind
Halfway there with no end in sight
And as I am preparing for the next step, I’m taking stock. More and more I find myself smiling to myself, incredulous. Unable to grasp it while clinging tightly to it.
And I don’t want it to stop. I want sunrises with a horizon, not the walls and the fences.
I want endlessness, not the confinement of stasis.
I want life, not the idea of its perfection.
Halway there and an end in sight
And at the same time I’m longing for the end. Every stretch of road is defined by its destination, which I am striving for.
Always projected forwards, towards a reason.
And so I’m yearning for the arrival while I dread it.
I’m waiting for the conclusion, and want to postpone its judgement.
I want vindication, and fear being proven right…