August 1, 2016
Like an addict who enters rehab, a place he really isn’t comfortable, in order to avoid returning to where he would rather be, so I have returned to work. Every day I struggle with my addiction… the road calls to me; faraway lands and people are constantly begging for “just one more taste”.
I have to fight the urge to give in. I have to focus on the job, stay “clean” and earn a paycheck for a while — a paycheck that I already know will ultimately go towards more of my “drug”. Each evening I return home and look at my motorcycle. It tugs at my resolve: “You could be in Mexico in a few hours. Central America isn’t far from there. You were so close to Kazakhstan, Turkey, Romania, and more just a month ago. You know you want to go back.”
I know that it would take very little to slip back into that lifestyle. Where there is no time frame, no schedule, no stress. Where days run together and dates mean nothing. Where new faces appear every day, curious how I arrived in their country, the things I’ve experienced, and where I will go next.
Once you’ve been there, it’s hard to go back to a “normal” life. You’re always just a step away from falling off the wagon and back into wanderlust. I am still struggling with returning to “social norms”. It has never been my strong point. I’ve always been an outsider; always lived a bit on the edge of society. Motorcycles tend to have that effect on people, or maybe it’s the other way around.
But for now I must work hard to focus on today. I must put my head down and get the job done. The addiction of dreams must remain under control a little longer.
As with other addictions…one day at a time.
And today is Day One. My first day back to work.
If Not Now, Soon….