Memoirous

I continually ask myself—Why? Why do I go on? Why do I harass myself by trying to write? Planning a hike to the Arctic Circle end of August (Kungsleden)? Sometimes all I want to do is stay in my comfort zone—out in the garden or in my Tiny House with a mug of tea. Then . . . I remember. As human beings we continually need to be challenged. I see what happens when people stop. When we park as close to the store entrance as possible and get out of the car and minimize our steps and daily encounters. We shrivel up and lose mobility and become less interesting. Psychologically we suffer as well as physically. Yet—it’s so easy to give in to this temptation. I’ve been struggling with this so much lately. To be honest, I’m scared. And when this curtain falls over me, I know I must recover. Throw it off. Face my fears. Another admission: many of the things I fear or worry about are simply made up. Borrowed. Not necessarily the enemy at the front door. Though, equally as crushing. L...

I can’t tell you how many times people have told me they want to write. Great! The world needs your story. Years later they are still talking about writing. You see, it's easier said than done. Every day we have to wake up and face hard tasks. Ones that in our imagination seem easy, but once faced with them, we are overwhelmed. How does one get started with a great idea? I recall one such dilemma I encountered. When I was in high school I wanted to start a club for kids in a housing project down the road. These children didn’t have access to the swimming pool or after-school softball or soccer teams where you have to pay for membership. They had very few opportunities for fun and organized recreation. My idea was to present games, crafts, treats, and mentoring. This was before the Internet, before social media. How in the world would I be able to get something like this going? It’s not like you can just go into an open field on the property and gather up loose kid...

Fear—we’re all afraid of something. None of us want to fail. When I do my bike trips people are constantly saying: You’re so brave. Not really. I’d wake up every day while on my trips wondering if I’d make it to my destination. You see, I don’t always ride with maps. But, even with maps, I often get lost. This past summer I rode my bike by myself from Amsterdam to Sandnes, Norway. I had to deal daily with different languages, currency, kilometers, road closures, my smartphone dying. Yet always by the end of the day I got somewhere. I’d put up my little tent, fire up my tin-can stove, and prepare a bit of supper. Always there was a tomorrow where I would once again wake up and question my abilities—and as usual ride closer to my destination. In Norway on my last day, I made the decision to ride a plateau rode that is known for its difficulty. I climbed and climbed up past the tree line, up above alpine lakes—then when it came time to descend into the fjord below there we...