Rambling man

Today, I woke up at noon, after sleeping for a full 9 hours... oh man, was it sensational.  I lazed around for a few hours, ate a plate of leftover contents from my fridge (little Chinese, Italian, Mexican combo), talked to my babyB about love and sex, and painted.  Then, I rode my bicycle through the pools of sunshine over broken concrete, celebrating the most perfect May day.  Nothing was particularly right about today, but it was a day in which I finally felt this shit lift.  Blocking out my next three months is hard, but gives me a sense of peace.  I will be living in Folsom, California this summer and I am going to make the most of it.

Something happened to me on that ride.  Maybe it was the way the wind picked up during that particular lyric: "Let it always be known that I was who I am" or the fact that I walked into my new favorite coffeeshop and was greeted by bullshit talk and smiles or the way the rays felt on my back when I cowered over my journal and whispered my secrets into the pages.  Everything is undecided right now, except where I'll be located physically; of the places I will travel in my mind and in my heart this summer, I have no idea.

I've come to believe there's a divine reason why it's me, here, this summer... and for why I will be here alone, for the most part as my closest counterparts will be exploring different parts of the world.  I think I need to get back to me.  I've always carried myself in this indubitably strong, fearless, raw way that I've lost in the havoc of the last year.  That sense of intention and integrity has been misplaced and I am excited to find it again.  Finding yourself again isn't some ten step progress, by any means, and I anticipate some peaks and valleys- but I'm happy to be back in the nature of my own humanness.  To feel.  To feel connected to my experiences, wholly.

When I was journaling today, I realized a few things: 1) That this will probably be my last summer here, and I think it's important that I really relish it.  2) That I haven't finished what I've set out to do in this town.  I think living in the same place that doesn't challenge you can keep you below your potential- or maybe it's being uninspired by a place that keeps an individual from challenging themselves... despite what it is, there are goals here that I haven't accomplished, and I'm looking forward to taking them on.

Goals for my Folsom summer:

01) Cycle everywhere- everywhere.  Everywhere.
02) Ride a century.
03) Train for a half marathon.  Then, train for a full marathon.  Run both.
04) Learn Spanish.
05) Take piano lessons.
06) Build a fixed gear bicycle.
07) Find myself again.
08) Read.  
09) Lean on my friends.  Reach out.  Ask for help.  Open up.
10) Buy a kayak.
11) Visit New York.
12) Visit Seattle and Portland.
13) Plan my backpacking trip through South America for January-March.
14) Paint.
15) Take more photographs.
16) Lollapolooza.
17) Take the train somewhere epic.
18) Write.
19) Hike Half-Dome at midnight, watch the sunrise.

The list will grow, I'm sure.  I feel like this really terrible situation is going to encourage some needed changes in my life.  I think I was getting ahead of myself.  I think I was losing my reality in my dreams.  The truth of it all is any experience is better when the Y-O-U you love is present in it.

I ended my night, after a shift at work, at Samuel Horne's with Tina D and some great new friends (all Folsom originals, as I call them) and enjoyed some genuine conversation, finding we're all going to be neighbys this summer.  My final moment involved chest-bumping a professional fencer.  Pretty awesome.

"Rambling Man" by Laura Marling shuffled on when I was journaling and riding today, and it felt so right.  In a moment, I knew it was meant to be my summer song.  The lyrics speak to me.  They scream to me.  Overcoming obstacles, not letting a bad situation or a weak moment define you.  Staying true.  Accepting faults and flaws.  Moving forward.  Diving into life.  Loving.  That's what I want my summer to be about.

Never let your memories be greater than your dreams.