Dogs and Scooters Make Good Teachers
If I’m willing and not resistant or rigid in my belief that I know best in every situation I can learn something about myself and my life. Lily (left) and Aiden continually remind me of the power of simplicity and the joy hidden in the mundane and ordinary. Each morning they leap out the back door and into the day with no expectations beyond what they might see and smell in that moment. There are no thoughts about adventures in the mountains or disappointment that they aren’t wandering along the Blue Ridge. They’re too busy exploring what’s right in front of them. Right now.
Dogs and scooters remind me that my life does not exist somewhere else, or tomorrow, or yesterday. It is happening now. Even though we walk through the same places in the morning, along the woods, over a creek, through a field, it’s new each time. The light changes, the fragrance in the air changes. I’m not the same man right now that I was ten minutes ago. And if I can stay focused on this moment as the dogs do, I can find pleasure and contentment. For as long as I can focus…
Cocoon of Familiarity
There’s something dangerous about the familiar. It’s easy to become lazy and isolated doing the same thing over and over again. Mindless repetition of something. I’ve been asked how I can ride the same routes through the same places over and over again. Aren’t I screaming to venture out into the unknown?
Sometimes. But not often. I think the key lies in the “mindless” part of mindless repetition. The dogs demonstrate an unfailing devotion to the present moment as they bring a hyperawareness to everything they do. They see, hear, and smell things that weren’t there yesterday and won’t be tomorrow. I watch and realize I do the same thing while riding my familiar rides. I’m not bored and focused on a destination. I’m drinking in the world as I ride. Dogs and scooters continue to teach.
Evidence of Something
Perhaps the best evidence of the varied experience and response I have to the familiar routes and places I frequent appears in my journals. Each entry is different, a reflection of how I respond to things. Sure, there are a few common themes that emerge. A better diet would be nice. More exercise. Do a better job maintaining the house and all my junk.
But mostly I write about how I’m feeling at the moment. And man, that sure does change. I’m like the dogs, continually responding to the world and excited to be doing it.
Who Can Say What Comes Next
I’d be lying if I said I never dream of big rides. The Mid-Atlantic BDR. Down the Blue Ridge Parkway. Across North America. I can sit at a table in the Pump Station and imagine rides on my scooters and motorcycles. Fantasize about adventures awash in difficult terrain, rough camping, and enduring hardship and weather. I’m alive in those dreams, strong, vital, and alive.
If I cling too tight to dreams and fantasies I’ll loose track of my life and become empty and miserable because I can’t have what I think I want. Dogs and scooters remind me that my life is happening right now and the choices I make to act are what affect it. My teachers do a good job keeping me grounded in reality and making choices rather than isolate myself in a cocoon of fantasy. The dogs don’t do that.
Life is good when I make the most of what I actually have rather than resent what I don’t have.
Full speed ahead!
Amazing writing. Thanks for the introspection.
Thank you. Just a side effect of riding a scooter.
“If I cling too tight to dreams and fantasies I’ll loose track of my life and become empty and miserable because I can’t have what I think I want.”
Clinging too tight is bad but expanding your world is different. I never gave a thought to doing Americade because of cost, ride length and wondering if it was for me. My wife moved me in that direction after we had lunch with my friend returning from the event. I’m glad she had me surrender my negatives and going to it.
Living in the familiar may be comforting but stepping out of it can be mind enhancing as you visit new places and get yourself and your motorcycle to someplace new. I feel like I’ve stepped out of a phone booth in my riding when I hit the road for someplace further away to ride, eat and take in the countryside meeting new people who share the same interests.
I’ve long thought about the mind enhancing effect you refer to regarding being in new places. I’ve traveled a lot in my life and I certainly can attest to the thrill and exhilaration of visiting new places. And it drove my desire to continue seeing new places for a long time until my perspective began to change after a discussion with photographer Stephen Shore. I had asked him about his time living in Montana and whether he made any meaningful photographs there. He told me that he was so overwhelmed by what he was looking at that he didn’t really see anything. He told me it took three years before he began to see anything or make photographs that were anything more than superficial snapshots.
My wife pushed my thinking even further when we began to travel and I was showing up with a complex itinerary of places to see and visit. He were in Germany and I wanted to travel all over. We had spent our first night in an inn in the Alps looking out over a lake and the mountains. “Let’s just stay here.” And we did. Instead of moving from town to town and rushing along we stayed in that inn, walked, drove around a little, and established ourselves in one place. And I began to notice how my appreciation of the place changed. I was trading exhilaration of seeing something new with experiencing something more familiar.
Not long after we were in Maine in a small hotel on the coast. We ended up staying there a lot. First a few days. Then weeks at a time. Waking each morning to the sounds of the waves crashing on the rocks, a walk along the beach, breakfast in a little cafe. Doing the same day after day and finding a calm serenity in the experience. We started spending three weeks in the late fall and three weeks in the late spring in that same hotel. Often in the same room.
In those familiar places I learned a lot. How to relax. How to see. How to slow down and experience life in a manner different than I used to.
We’re all different I suppose. But I no longer need to see as much of the world as I can. I found peace in that approach. But I had to let go of the idea that I was missing out on something better…
Value is found in immediate surroundings.
I can’t disagree with that.
Busy day today, it seems! A blog post AND a video, and neither is a April Fool’s prank. 🙂 While circumstances at the moment do not favor a solo long-distance adventure, I am working on a drive-and-ride solution that would see me hauling the 125 to a location via RV or SUV and then spendings the day riding in new territory from a base of operations. Might be a good compromise.
I’m just trying to break free of my cold weather blues maybe. The older I get the more burdensome winter seems to be.
I like your plan. If my wife and I were still traveling I might well do that.
As a long time subscriber to Wander Lust who has had to lower his sights of late for personal reasons this timely post has been more than helpful. Thanks Steve for the gentle reminder that the half filled cup remains to be savoured.
I am slowly learning to appreciate the half filled cup. It took a long time…
Hey Steve,
Oh such words placed it seems for me at just the right time. Thank you sir once again something I know all to well yet an often daily struggle just to stay in the now. I think riding forces me to do that and stay sharp to the whats ahead is here now. The Vespa I think just speaks Ride Me glad you have many vessels to sail to where ever the trails lead you down..Happy riding and always take care friend.
Dr.Don
Riding definitely can help me stay in the moment. I like to think I can take some of that lesson to the other parts of my life.
Like you, my Vespa scooters suggest Ride Me as well. Now they have to share me though with three motorcycles. So far the garage remains a harmonious space!
While I am more of a cat guy, I very much appreciate what you have eloquently stated about dogs and how they “live in the moment”. That is something I continually aspire to, but often fall short of achieving.
Excellent post!
Falling short seems to be an important part of life for me. You know the old adage, there’s more learning in failure than success…
Sir did you write about Maine ,specifically?? Enjoy your writing thus far!!
My experiences in Maine were life changing. They hold a special place in my mind and heart. There are a few references to Maine on the blog. The post from 14 years ago titled “Renewing a Dead Battery” is a good look at the experience there.
Because it is an old post the images didn’t transfer correctly into WordPress and look blurry. You need to click on each individually to see them sharp.
https://scooterinthesticks.com/2010/10/renewing-dead-battery/
Your thoughts of how dogs “live in the now” reminded me of similar words in a book series I read recently. One of the main characters is a military dog, a Belgian Malnois and his former Army Ranger partner. Dogs really just live in the moment it seems, no worries about the future and no regrets about the past. I wish I could do that sometimes.
I wonder if you’re reading about Tucker and Kane in War Hawk?
Dogs live in a manner than many humans strive to achieve — living in the moment as you describe. Religions are built around that. And like you, I wish I could do that. Riding helps me temporarily but the effects are lingering longer now when I get off the scooter or motorcycle…
Yes! Tucker and Cain!
Can I start with that book or do I have to read the series?
Start here: https://share.libbyapp.com/title/1715074