It’s easy to maintain focus. Especially on a motorcycle, going sixty miles an hour on an empty country road. June is seasonably hot in upstate New York this year. However, at eight o’clock in the morning, it’s still a bit chilly. The traffic is scarce and it’s easy to switch off. There are parts of brain trained to monitor situation on the road and operate the vehicle unconciously. The only sound is the engine roar and the wind twirling in your ears. Easy to disconnect, and yet still be in the present. Unlike in the car, you’re not only watching the scenery passing by your window. You are a part of it, you feel it with all your senses. The chill of the morning, the vibrations of the frame, the road inches below your feet, the blow (and bugs) in your face. And the smells – asphalt, spilled oils, fresh spread manure in the fields. You feel and register the world around you. You’re present and with no coffee mug, no radio or other distractions, your mind is also so much clearer. If you haven’t noticed already, I like riding my motorcycle. It’s almost a zen like experience. Most of the time…
The truth is, I have no choice. Over the weekend we’ve managed to sell quite a few of our possessions. My car, Ford Focus (no pun intended!) being one of them. I don’t care for the weather this summer, but in the next three weeks… Rain, rain, go away! Come again… after July 8th…!
Riding a motorcycle is easy. It doesn’t require skills or knowledge. It doesn’t require university degree or years of experience. That’s why riding motorcycle is fun. Real life is more complicated. The decisions you make are more complex, their consequences less immediate, but could be just as horrible. If you lose control of your bike at sixy miles an hour, the consequences will be immediate and painful. When you lose control of your life, you may not even realize it. You will probably enjoy the free fall for a while. But the end will eventually be just as bad.
Switching jobs, relocating, starting anew is all part of life. It may feel overwhelming at first, but in the end is like switching lanes on the road. A Sabbatical is a bit different. We take a turn on this country road and hope that we don’t lose control. I don’t know where the new road is going to take us to. And quite frankly, we don’t care. We want to enjoy new smells and be part of a different scenery.
Right now it feels like entering the curve still going sixty miles an hour. We hope as hell, we don’t hit the pavement…
As some of my French friends would say: “Focus is key”.