The Ghost of Christmas Future-Biking In Morocco and Spain

The Littlest Things

In the Biggest World

My face is peeling off, literally. I stare into the mirror and watch as my cheeks pucker, redden and scab, and wonder if this is a time-lapse of old age. The Ghost of Christmas Future. I have always felt young in my body and if asked how old I feel, I would say 35 or so, but not today. Today I feel 95. A veritable crone.

I am in the midst of giving myself a Fluorouracil facial peel at the recommendation of my doctor, as a penalty for all the fun I have had in the sun over the years, and it is not going well. I guess the truth is, I am a bit of a baby and a vain one at that. To add to the torture, I had thought that it was a great idea to sequester myself alone in a cabin in the woods in midcoast Maine and take the time to do some deep introspective writing, which is smacking strongly of naval-gazing. Lonely, naval-gazing. It is hunting season as well, and I don’t feel safe inside or out.

I have been alone before and have often enjoyed it, because it was novel and gave my brain a chance to settle, but not this time. This time I miss my family, I miss my granddaughter, I miss my friends and I miss my home. In fact, I miss them so much, that I started to second guess my decision to go on a solo bike tour this winter. Why would I choose to leave, if home is full of so many things that I love? Why choose to adversity? Why choose loneliness? Then I looked in the mirror again.

“Because, you old hag, adventuring is your fountain of youth. It is how you remember who you are without responsibilities and routines that have worn creases in your brow. It is how you remember who you are when you aren’t looking in mirrors, but rather looking at the stars and the hills and into the faces of people whose lives are so distant, but so similar to your own. It is how you regain perspective. It is time to wake up and get your brain synapses firing and your muscles aching. There will be time to be still”

So, I am listening to the Baba Yaga in the mirror, because, although ugly, she is wise. I will leave January 10th and return February 17th. I have rethought my route again because, I want to be open to what feels best. This time I don’t have a goal, just a hunger to explore another culture. Maybe I will go south in Morocco to Casablanca, maybe I will head north in Spain to Barcelona. I know there will be a lot of hills. I know it will be beautiful and I know I will meet incredible people who will remind me of everything important. Other than that, my bicycle and I will make it up as we go along.

Seems like I will spend my life seeking a balance between connecting with what is right before me and staying connected to the awesomeness of the bigger world. It is a duality; to love the sigh of my granddaughters breath against my neck when I rock her to sleep and to yearn to sample the spices along the Moroccan Coast. The smallest things and the biggest world.