Airplanes, Passion, and the Open Road

So, I wrote what I thought was a really good opening chapter of my adventure and the computer decided it sucked…

As I was getting my tickets to fly, they cancelled one of my flights…

There is a saying I like, and often repeat, “Just because you are paranoid doesn’t mean the world isn’t out to get you”. Too true.

I think maybe this is all appropriate for what I am setting about to do. My plans are a good starting point, but I need to let them go. I need passion in the deepest reaches of my soul, and passion cannot be planned.

I have been pondering passion. What is it? Can I say this, here, is passion, but that, over there, isn’t? The only way to do that is to be able to distill passion and say, “If it doesn’t have this, then it isn’t really passion.”

I think passion is a desire which is willing to risk.

This is the problem in our lives: we are programmed to avoid risk, but in order to live, I mean REALLY live, we have to risk. That is the problem with porn, it gives us what we want, without the cost and risk of another soul. Porn will never have bad breath, pass gas, grow flabby, critique your appearance or performance, or betray you. At least at first.

Problem is, porn imitates a soul connection, but with only one soul. So the person involved in porn carries all of the weight. It sucks you dry. Scary thing is, it doesn’t just relate to porn - it is all of our life. Life is a soul activity and it requires that we open ourselves up to that hard to predict and often painful soul-to-soul connection.

Which brings me to an airplane.

I would characterize myself as a wimp with aspirations to non-wimpdom. I have come to believe that I have made decisions all my life which minimized risk and limited the avenues into my soul from other people. It extends into work, friends, ministry, family, marriage, church and, finally my relationship with Jesus. So, I am on an airplane, heading from Atlanta, Ga to Santa Cruz, Ca. I am buying a motorcycle and riding it back to Alabama.

Why? Because I need the risk in my life. I need to face the bully, and live.

Huh? When I was growing up, I was tall, skinny, bookish and my dad was a pastor. For some reason, these characteristics draw bullies like a shark to blood. I ran from the bullies for a long time, then, one day I’d had enough. I took the beating, and I gave a beating. The bully did better, but I learned that the fight was not as bad as what I feared. The bullies lost interest since it wasn’t really a prize fight with me, and I was determined that they would bear the marks of starting a fight with me.

So here I am; 47, a professional in a good field, 3 kids, lots of activity and responsibility, but the only risk is somewhat laissez-faire*; the economy, crazy or texting drivers… but no real “geez, I could die” risk. So I am heading out into life with just me and God and a motorcycle and 75 pounds of gear. I don’t know the roads. I don’t know the land, people, gas stations, bathrooms… I have no idea where to eat, where to sleep or what to expect, but I need to face the grandeur of creation without the trappings of security around me. I am riding a bike from Santa Cruz, Ca, through Yosemite, the Grand Canyon and the deserts of the American Southwest, and will accept the tutorial of the open road.

I need to face life, so I can live it better.

*laissez-faire (le- say- fer’): a philosophy or practice characterized by a usually deliberate abstention from direction or interference especially with individual freedom of choice and action.

Definition from http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/laissez-faire

Trina’s translation: choosing to NOT choose a course of action.