Beautifully Human

I'm going to skip all the stuff about how long it has been since my last blog entry.

So here I am again...

"I'm so beautifully human and I'm proud of it..." -Brother Ali

I could sit here and organize my thoughts, edit my composition, and make it sound as if I'm smarter than I may actually be, but I won't. If there's anything that any of you deserve, it's my heart; pure, unadulterated honesty. (I still can't seem to get over how silly this blogging thing feels.)

The last year of my life has brought me the entire spectrum of human emotion. I've suffered loss, I've enjoyed bliss, I've been in physical pain, I've had financial struggles, and I've been in and out of love. I've learned from others and I've learned from my mistakes. I will continue to make mistakes, and I'm okay with that.

After the bicycle tour ended, my life went in a direction that I thought was right for me. I had the support of my friends and family during and after the tour, and that inspired me to continue on the path that I had chosen for myself.  I moved to Colorado from Arizona in search of a new experience; what I thought was the next step in my adventure. It turns out that it was the next step, but it didn't turn out the way I thought it would. I got married to a woman that I thought was right for me. I was wrong. So be it. I could hold on to the immense disappointment and feelings of betrayal and bitterness that followed the dissolution of my marriage, but I won't. I choose not to. As for my reason not to...that thought leads to my personal dichotomy of others versus myself. I feel no greater sense of joy and fulfillment as when I'm enriching the lives of others. I learned at an early age what it meant to give. On the other hand, I understand the importance of taking care of myself and pursuing that which enriches my own life. Perhaps that sounds egotistical and/or selfish. You're welcome to think what you'd like. Really.

Admittedly, I've been self-centered, distracted, unmotivated, and even secluded since I moved back to Arizona in late March. I don't always feel proud of it, but it has been my choice. Those that know me well understand why (I hope). That does NOT mean that I've forgotten about the people I met on the bike tour, or that I don't care about them. I do. To all of you that I shared stories, moments, and experiences with from February to October of 2012: thank you. People tell me that what I did was amazing, challenging, etc...but it is not lost on me that none of it would have meant anything if it weren't for you.

As for this moment, I choose to be grateful for the good people in my life. I love my friends, who often feel more like family than my actual family. If this life has taught me anything, it's that blood isn't that thick, and we are made mostly of water. It's a strange thing to say, I know...but think about it. I've only ever had one blood relative in my life, and that person is my younger brother, Nik. I love him dearly. However, it has been the other people in my life that have influenced me to become the man that I am today. I am proud and I am flawed. I have very little shame, and the scariest thing to me is not being authentic.

My hope is that this rant doesn't make you want to puke. I'm just spilling some guttural build-up that I haven't had a recent opportunity to share with anyone in person. I won't apologize for my words. I understand that may make some people uncomfortable or even resentful toward me, and that's okay. I fully expect reciprocation. As they say, "Don't dish what you can't take" or something to that effect.

I love you all, and I love me. I know I make it difficult to do at times, but so do you...

For now, I'm done. If there is anything you'd like to share with me, please respond. Good, bad, ugly...I'm interested to hear your feelings/thoughts if you would do me the honor of a few minutes of your time and energy.

Final note:
If nothing else, I want people to know and truly understand that life is beautiful. It's difficult and confusing, yes...but it's also simple. Only you can know what makes you happy, but more importantly, only you can choose that happiness. It's not up to anyone else. Nobody owes you anything. Get up, get out, and do something about it...

Sincerely,
Your fellow human,
Zak

-soul of soldier, heart of a scholar-

 Winds of Acceptance

I had a decidedly challenging day today. Leaving Norman, Oklahoma at noon, I had what I planned to be a 50 mile day ahead of me. I looked at the forecast. 91 degrees with 25-35mph winds from the South, gusting to around 40mph. I was heading South. Along with the wind, I had a (doable) 900 foot climb.

At this point in the tour, I've had days like this...I've become more confident than ever on the bicycle, though. Perhaps too confident.

I guess what I'm learning is that one good day of conquering challenges doesn't necessarily warrant the next. I've had longer days. I've had way more climbing to do in a day. I've had much worse weather than I did today. I've had days where I started out on a measly two hours of sleep after freezing in a tent the night before, coupled with the fact that I had only cleaned the previous day's ride off of me with baby wipes. Gross. The strange thing about that day: it was to be my longest yet (at the time), and I rode like a champion. Weird, I know.

Today was one of those days, but on the other end of the spectrum. I planned on killing it today, having had a long night's rest, a wonderful breakfast, and a warming send-off from some of Thomas' family in Norman. As I pulled out of the neighborhood onto Highway 9, the wind slapped me in the face. I felt like I was riding in water. It was demoralizing.

I knew I had to make it, though, and make it I did. I downshifted to my middle chainring up front, accepted the fact that today was going to be one of my slowest days yet, and settled in for the challenge. As I mentioned above, I'm confident in my riding skills on the bike now. The biggest challenge on these days is the mental aspect. If you've ever ridden into constant 25+mph winds for 50 miles, you know what I mean. Most of you probably haven't, though. That's fine. I'm nobody special for having done it, it's just one of the physical challenges that I've accepted as part of this tour.

Throughout the day, while fighting the wind and its endless efforts to knock me over, I had the opportunity to get some serious thinking done. (As is the case with most of my days on the bike.) On the "easier" days, I can focus on the music I'm listening to, analyzing data for the ride, and observing the landscape for example. Today, though, was a different story. I found myself searching for motivation to continue battling the elements. I thought about the people I've met along the way that have so many daily tribulations, dealing with pain, loss, grief, healing, anger, and the like; people that have told me that I'm an inspiration to them. I also thought about a lot of the cyclists I've met who have encouraged me to 'just keep pedaling' on those tough days. I'd be remiss if I didn't also mention that I have a desire to impress them on some level with how hard I'm riding. That competitive spirit that is within me, competing against only myself, is fed by those fellow cycling enthusiasts' words.

I also found myself ruminating the metaphorical relationship between this kind of physical challenge and life's daily challenges. Some days are all uphill, some days are beautiful, peaceful, and seemingly effortless. Still others are stormy, and we can often feel as though we're not going to make it to the finish line. The confidence I've built comes from accepting and conquering those tough days and then using that confidence to inspire success on the next difficult day. It does, however, take a certain level of mental discipline to remember that we (I) can make it through those tough days. It is often too easy to focus on the difficulties we are facing, rather than realizing the sense of accomplishment that we have earned before, and will again achieve if we believe in ourselves. Today's example was brought to my attention by Thomas: I had some wide, smooth shoulders to ride. For all the wind, hills, fatigue, sweat, hunger, and insatiable thirst, I had a fairly safe and comfortable route to travel. I had considered the shoulders once earlier in the day, but lost track of that during some gnarly gusts that almost threw me off the road and/or completely stopped me in my tracks, literally!

I'm not sure the lesson was completely learned, but I feel pretty good about what I accomplished today. I rode 57 miles in that wind, and for that I'm proud. I hope each and every one of you will believe in yourself in those tough moments, and have the mental discipline to find the positive in every situation. It has been a very hard thing for me to accept on this tour, but it is because my brother, Sean, chose to end his life that I have had the honor and pleasure to meet so many inspiring and wonderful people on this ride. For this experience, I am so grateful. Would I trade it to have my brother and best friend back? Of course I would, but that is not an option. I can only do my best with what I have.

And do my best, I will. That is a choice that I have made, and I fully accept all of the challenges and consequences (good and bad) with which it comes.

Tough Lesson Learned: Day 4 of Riding

Photo by Zachary Chipps near Big Sur, CA

Today was quite a day. Thomas and I were all ready to tackle our longest day yet (67 miles). We had a support vehicle to help carry some of our load, a good night's sleep and a hearty, carb-heavy breakfast under our belts, and what we knew was going to be some of the most beautiful scenery that California has to offer just ahead.

We began our day in Pacific Grove, climbing through town to make it to 17-Mile Drive, then onto Highway 1, where we knew we had some climbing to do, but were also inspired by what was coming...we made it most of the way to Big Sur, and just as we began crossing one of the bridges, we realized we had met our demise: consistent 35-40mph winds with gusts to 55mph. It was demoralizing. Not only because we knew we could no longer ride safely along the upcoming cliffs, but because Thomas and I had made a commitment to each other and to the cause that we would ride every mile of the stretch across the country.

My personal goals for this tour had to be set aside for the sake of what we are trying to accomplish throughout this journey, and I can't lie, it was very difficult to come to terms with. Defeat was the first thought that came into my head, but Thomas set me straight when he said, "Ya know what, bro?! This is what our creed is all about! Collaboration and Community! We work as a team, and this team is much bigger than the two of us!"  (We had made it approximately 30 miles.)

We loaded up the bikes and gear into the back of Sumer's Volvo, I sunk into the back seat, and began to process what had just happened. I realized that what I had been told repeatedly by so many people is exactly true; that I need to learn to take care of myself in the process of trying to spread awareness of this epidemic of suicide. I started this journey with that goal in mind, and if you know me very well at all, you know that I'll sacrifice a lot for the sake of others. I'm so passionate about what we're doing, that my comfort and safety often come as an afterthought. However, that mentality will not get me to New York.

I watched the surreal images of the California coast pass me by through the window to my right, peering through panniers and dismantled bicycles, and the only thought that brought me any comfort was that I have a job to do right now, and maybe someday I can come back to this beautiful place and conquer these hills on my own, on my terms...but for now, it's time to RISE.

Day 1: It's real.

I'm exhausted and exhilarated. To this point, I've only spoken of and imagined what this day would bring. I think it's safe to say I was doing just that...imagining. To have experienced today in all its grandeur was one of the most powerful events of my life.

Thomas and I woke up this morning on board at the Coast Guard Station Golden Gate, packed up the bikes, and had an emotional send-off with approximately 15 shipmates. Thomas and I were so honored to have each of our bikes carried down, under, and up the stairs to other side of the bridge (from the parking lot) where we launched. To see those servicemen doing so really sent home how important this tour is to so many people. Those men and women are on the front lines of this epidemic in their community, and give so much to bring closure to the families who suffer the loss of suicide.

Before we took off, the CO of the base handed each of us a Coast Guard unity coin, explaining that as we shook hands with the coin nestled in our palms, a lasting bond was being made. It was a moving moment.

As we mounted the bikes to begin our journey, it was about 45 degrees, raining, and fog covered the top third of the bridge. It was beautiful, scary, surreal, and oh, yeah...windy! On the other side of the bridge, I looked up the weather conditions to verify that gusts were up to 46mph.

We met with a new friend who lost his brother by way of the bridge, and he was kind enough to guide us through the rest of San Francisco on our way to Los Altos!

We arrived to Los Altos and were treated to dinner and warm beds, along with an opportunity to meet and share with two couples, each of whom have lost a child to suicide.

There are no words to describe the overwhelming compassion and support I've felt today, and it's only the first day.

My continued hope is that as we learn from each of these communities, we can somehow share the blessings with which we've been blessed by these amazing people.

In the interest of brevity, I'm omitting pretty much everything that has happened from our arrival in Santa Cruz on Sunday to our departure this morning. Hopefully some of the video blogs posted will share some of that. Let it be known, though: this week has far-surpassed my wildest dreams and/or expectations. There is so much love out there, and we need to not only live and share it, but first be aware of it! If you didn't know, now you do.

Love and Life,
zak

ps- I'm sinking into my pillow for now, but tomorrow I will RISE again!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone.

Location:Los Altos, CA

A beginning...again.

Let me first preface this entry with the thought: I've considered the validity of this blog in regard to suicide awareness, etc., and I've come to the conclusion that this aspect (the blog) of the R.I.S.E. movement will be a bit of a window into the inner workings of my Self, my thoughts, and my daily encounters with my EGO. That said:

Many people who know me understand that I am a night owl. I have many reasons for staying up late, some of which include my work schedule, a desire to accomplish things when I feel others are being "lazy" by sleeping, a pungent disdain for sleep itself (I view it as a waste of time), and the peace and quiet that come along with it. The paradox here is that when I do finally sleep, I rather enjoy it! One might think that this would lead to a different set of habits, but as of yet, that has not been the case. 

The most interesting, exciting, and mysterious part of sleep for me is the dreaming. As an analytic, it is often difficult for me to express my creative side in the form of classical "art" (painting, drawing, dancing, etc.), but I find I've been gifted with an affinity for lucid dreaming. To know that my subconscious can be as creative as it is has been quite an experience the older I've become, and due to my dream awareness, I am able to remember many of the details of many of my dreams; dreams that have brought me joy, pain, unrest, and even to tears.  Those dreams I speak of are those that are predominantly visual in nature. However, the type of dream I'd like to share with you now is one in the middle of which I wake, repeating an unknown stanza or message that I believe to be some sort of universal insight or "download" from another source. That source, I do not know, nor would I claim to know with any certainty. All I know is what was in my head at the time of my awakening, which I immediately wrote down in the notebook next to my bed: 

"Men wake from dreams for which they'd never wish to have...and find they've awakened something within. When they realize the human experience is what they have wished for, life becomes meaningful. A meaningful existence does not die with the human body, but is steadily passed through the ages, and its legacy is born through story. If you are alive as a human, your purpose is to live, and that alone is meaningful."

Why blogging is so foreign to me:

     If you know me at all, then you know that I have no problem sharing my thoughts and feelings at anytime to almost anyone. I think that's why I'm so confused as to why this blogging thing has been such a challenge for me. On one side of the coin, I usually deal with things internally so there is often no point in rambling on about something that I am able to process and come to a conclusion with as quickly as I think about it. On the other side, I've recently discovered the power of sharing those thought processes with other people, gaining an additional perspective.

     

Two things come to mind right now. First, the advice given to me by others about how to approach a blog, and secondly, how I can share the process of my devoted self-reflection (and its results for me) in such a manner that I do not sound “preachy” with it. Proper writing etiquette dictates that I address the advice first, and then move on to the latter idea. I don't care, though. This is my blog, it's my first time doing so, and I will do it as I see fit in this moment.

     

I've had people ask me why it is that I seem so happy or content or satisfied or whatever word they use to describe my demeanor. My answer: I choose to be. It really is that simple. In this country, we've been raised with the idea that we have a right to the pursuit of happiness. I beg to differ. I believe we all have a right to happiness, but only if we choose it. If one decides not to make that choice, then he is entitled to the aforementioned pursuit. (Good luck!) My pursuit: life.