S2, Episode 22: Silence

Silence is a true friend who never betrays.

Confucius
With the longest writers block since the invention of writing, I reflected, questioned, brainstormed, discussed, wrote, and journaled for "another story," another post that'll keep my views stats high for the month, that'll keep satisfying whoever reads my blog. That you, the reader, would spend this time to read the insights of what I have to say is admirable, a middle class American with a decent education and not anything really spectacular to show for. But what can I share with you and in turn, how will it benefit humanity?

The waves of change swept over my life as I got back from my trip. I was back in the Pacific Northwest! I graduated college. I taught music abroad. I had lived on a bicycle for 100 days. Now all of that is done, what next? How can I top that? A new chapter has unfolded in my life and slowly it dawned on me: I have nothing. And so I stayed silent. If I had nothing of value to say, if my next post was going to be a rant, or another story just for the sake of storytelling and ego, what weight does that give to my experiences and to my future? I stood blog silent through the holiday season, spending time with my family and closest friends, I still had nothing. Is this it? Shall I wash my hands clean and leave this, my modest following, this sacred cyberspace of sharing intimate anecdotes? No, we've come to this space to share ideas and thoughts as if we are sitting across the table drinking coffee and catching up like old times. So here, my 2¢: silence.

St. John's Abbey Church- Collegeville, MN

The blog silence has allowed much reflection and the only thing that I can write about is just that- silence. Take a moment, turn off Spotify, close the extra tabs of YouTube personalities and Wikipedia articles. Listen to this story. And try this :

Listen to the hum of the computer. Listen to your breath. The in breath and the out breath. Be aware of the body, the posture, the slouch, the relaxing and tensing of muscles. Notice what time of day it is, the temperature of the environment, the aroma around the space. Notice the traffic outside, or the buzz of people, or the sound of mingling family or co-workers, or friends. Then notice the in, then out breath.

Feel better? I do. But how does that help our daily lives? We simply exist in the moment of now and soak in the wonderful world we have been privileged to be a part of. One person said to me once, "Listen to the world, and you will be rewarded a hundred-fold."

Holy Cross in Boston, MA

With Hurricane Sandy approaching, I sought refuge in Boston. After the lots of wind and rain passed, the nation was mourning the loss of lives, livelihood, houses and a place to call home. I took in mostly second accounts of the nation despite being on the eastern seaboard. I could tell you that I volunteered at the red cross to move sandbags, or gave out gas or served at a soup kitchen. I could tell you that I gave the little possessions I had away to people who probably could have used some warmer clothes. I could have told you that I made a difference in indifference. But I didn't. I went on my somber, melancholic way to spending Thanksgiving with family in New Jersey & New York. Then I remembered the time I was at a monastery in New Hampshire.

Morning - the church bells rang. Then silence. It was cold sitting in St. Anselm's Abbey church. It was dark with some candles that seemed to provide no heat. It was only November; how could it get any colder? I knew it was the immensity of the space of brick, wood and glass. I sat in my place with my hood and looked to the darkness of the rest of the church. The sun hadn't risen yet, though the monks of St. Anselm's Abbey gathered to sing and meditate. If the monks around me were drifting in and out of sleep or actively meditating, I couldn't decide, but I knew I was still hazy from waking up minutes ago. My mind wanders nonetheless.

The sun starts to rise and give light to the day. The stained glass windows give a faint color at first, as if waking up themselves, then harmoniously give an aura of  hospitality. The cold fades, the darkness fades and begin to see the vastness of the space.

Midday - the windows give a warm presence to the church. On the right, reds and blues signify the Holy Spirit, on the left, greens and reds symbolize Jesus, and in the middle, all the colors blend to embody almighty God watching over us.

Evening - I come back and stand in the center of the circular church. It's quiet. Then I realize that my own self becomes quiet- my thoughts and heart, all reveling in the serenity of light, sound, and existence. It's as if nature and the people that came before me tell their story, where we are closest to God, tapping into that chi, that "Zen" state, not outside of me but within and around me.

And I realized it was just that: allowing the silence of one's surroundings and within one's soul that reconnects us to everything. So I add, "listen to the world and within yourself, and you will be rewarded a hundred-fold."

Until next time.

Episode 21: A Picture of Thanks

Sitting in a train for 8 hours from Boston, Massachusetts to Latrobe, Pennsylvania, I thought "how could I ever thank all the people that made this trip possible?" Since the U.S. is celebrating Thanksgiving, I thought it only appropriate to acknowledge of all who made this trip possible: through pictures. I've ended up with 1,500 pictures for this trip, might as well put them to good use. Andale, andale! Arriba, arriba!

Companies:
The Recycle Bicycle Shop- Ellensburg, WA
Mountian High Sports- Ellensburg, WA
Peter White Cycles- Hillsborough, NH
Recreational Equipment Inc.- Seattle, WA
Mountain Equipment Co-op- Vanouver, BC, Canada
Competitive Cyclist- West Valley City, UT
Trailhead Bike Shop- Ludington, MI
Green Mountain Bike- Rochester, VT
Julie, virtual assistant of Amtrak- United States

Hosts:
Birkin Owart's Family, Quincy, WA

Bill Bender- Sagle, ID

Abbot John Klassen, Br. Aelred Senna, & the monks of St. John's Abbey- Collegeville, MN

Doug, Barb, & Gus [the Dog!] Benson & friends

St. Mary's Catholic Church, Fr. George, Kay & company- Port Huron, MI

Nicole (& Diesel) LaChance- Portland, ME

Elijah Blaisdell- Boston, MA

Alex Niu- Cambridge, MA

Tom, Linda, and Tessa Mandras- Nashua, NH

Abbot Mark Cooper, Br. John Paul, Fr. Anselm & the monks of St. Anselm's Abbey- Manchester, NH

Archabbot Douglas Nowicki, Fr. Bonaventure & the monks of St. Vincent's Archabbey- Latrobe, PA

Erik Flaten- Portland, OR

Abbot Neal Roth, Fr. Peter, Br. Aelred & the monks of St. Martin's Abbey- Lacey, WA

Family:
Mom, Dad, Jim, & Lolo Lola- Tacoma, WA

Tim & Rose Rosemeier, Samantha, Michael, Vincent, Veronica, David Rosemeier, Minneapolis, MN

Tito Eboy, Tita Ting Ting & Lizares Family, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

Mavie & Chris Labayen, Philadelphia, PA

Friends:

Brendan & Brittany

Reece & Family

Kyle

Peter & Sam

Iann

Josh, Sarah, & Tara

Paul Nelson from Nelson's Hardware TrueValue - Cumberland, WI, left

Wisconsin adventurers, right

 Unfortunately, this list is not complete. My memory is great but not spotless. So to everyone I didn't mention, I remember the good memories we shared. A short speech and a long story could be written for every name, picture and company here. I hope recognition, my prayers, and my friendship has made your life more beautiful. Thank you for making my life so blessed and wonderful. Please keep in touch! In fact, if you send me an email and say hi, I promise I will write back!

across2worlds@gmail.com

Or friend me on Facebook. So from my humble heart, thanks... but also salamat po, danke schön, merci, grazie, gracias, obrigado, السلام عليكم, & 謝謝.

Until next time.

Episode 20: Long Live Lobster

As the title suggests, lobster is the name of the game. But first things first: I MADE IT. 

The first part of my "Coast-to-Coast" Bicycle Pilgrimage is over as of 14 days ago. Technically my bicycle and I went coastal state-to-coastal state since Ellensburg is smack dab in the middle of Washington, but let's not worry about the details. The "bicycle" part is still an option, basically until the weather doesn't allow me to, and the "pilgrimage" is not over as I'm visiting some monasteries this month. Click here and you get (more or less) the route Kyle and I took to Minneapolis, and what I took the rest of the way.

Atop Cadillac Mountain, 1,528 feet above sea level.

Maine: the lobster state. Everyone told me the lobster season was good this year, from Montana to Wisconsin to the local lobsterman in Maine. I arrived in the lovely state of Maine via the western border city of Fryeburg and onto Brunswick, my first official Atlantic coast city, at dusk. At that time I was in the highest spirits of recent memory, after going through tough weather, (rain, wind, snow) and sickness (cold & fever), all going through three sets of mountains in the Appalachians (the Adirondacks, Green Mountains, & White Mountains). I ended up at the Brunswick and the stayed in Portland after a night on the town with a local. Then went onto Bar Harbor, a piece of cake except for rain and constant kickers of hills that killed my morale. But I made it up to Cadillac Mountain, the highest mountain on the Atlantic Coast, north of Brazil.

So lobster. Crustaceans. This summer they were going for $2/lb.! The cheapest I found was $3.99- still cheaper than anywhere else, even the New Brunswick lobstermen protested for fair prices because of the U.S. surplus driving down market price. Price = cheap. Preparation- they have to be alive before you cook them otherwise their digestive juices end up breaking down the organs, giving off an enzyme and eventually going bad. So wait... I have to kill it to cook it?!

But... Butt...

I stare at it. It moves. I flinch.

"I hate creepy crawlies."

Nicole simply picks it up and hands it to me like it's a play thing.
Tells me, "If you rub it between the eyes, it goes to sleep."

I rub it. It goes limp. Doesn't help my courage one bit.

"You'll put one in?"

"... Ok."

And I am up close and personal to the biggest one I've encountered. I work up the courage to pick it up and get proof via picture.

Cooking lobster. In an apron.

Done. No big deal. I just killed something. Do I have to go to confession for that? Is there such thing as humane killing? It was in a coma when I put it in the boiling water. It came out freshly boiled and looking yummy, not like it did squirming half an hour ago. I ate my lobster, my lobster, with this in mind, thinking how different I would feel if I ordered one from a restaurant and paid three times as much.

Dinner: served.

But as I slowly shucked it up, from bottom side down the middle and same up top, slurping up the juices and slathering butter all over; it's a messy affair really. The fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach and boy did Maine win my heart.

Dinner: served again.

At the end of it all, I ended up having 5 lobsters in the 6 days I was in Maine, two in Portland, two in Belfast, and another in Trenton just outside of Bar Harbor with a lobsterman and his family. Sure, Acadia National Park, Mt. Cadillac, Catholic mass at a record 38 minutes with music and all, Bath where they're making a super stealth destroyer are great stories, but that'll be for another time... all for the sake of lobster.

Until next time.

Episode 19: The Things I've Learned: Part I

Think of a plan, make a plan, have a plan; but not everything goes according to the plan.

Reflecting on 79 days and counting every single day, I have tried to appreciate the accomplishments, no matter how little. Or the things I have failed to accomplish. Fail and reflect. Accomplish and reflect.

Agua de Vida. I would take a gander that 50% or more do not drink enough of the daily recommended amount of water. Or drink enough caffeine to counteract it.

If it's cold, be active. And wear layers. Stay dry. Have soup, hot tea, coffee, cocoa.

If it's hot, be active. Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. Enjoy the sun but not too much everything must be taken in moderation to avoid heat exhaustion.

Anger is a reactionary emotion. It can consume and give way to irrational thoughts.

Joy is a reactionary emotion. It can consume and give way to rational and irrational thoughts.

Hospitality can go a long way but don't count on it.

From mooing to cows to meeting people in my spandex, there's always a good story to tell when one stands out from the crowd.

Do not travel facing backwards on the train. We aren't meant to travel backwards.

Until next time.

Episode 18: Fear

In the light of the upcoming commercial holiday, what makes one scared? Scary movies, haunted houses, creepy crawlies, or the dark hallway? I have spent many a night on the road wondering if I'd make it- "what if a gigantic animal decides to feast on me tonight?" "what if I simply freeze to death?" "what happens when I see the bogeyman?" Can't go running to mom and dad's room anymore.

I'm focused on survival: I become suddenly aware of my surroundings, my hearing more acute, and time seems to slow down. How do these instincts tap into our spidey senses and allow us the fortune of being spared from foreseeable peril? Answer: our ancestors. They did the same thing before there were automobiles, firearms, grocery stores, homes with running water, sewage, and electricity. We've all been bred to innately be scared when there is a reason to be.

What I wonder on the road is whether other animals sense fear in others. Growing up learning to be tolerant of house dogs that viciously bark but are instinctively weary of strangers to their patch of land, I have been chased by some who pursue out of play and some I'm not so sure would wag their tail if I were slower. But it's all part of that game of life: survival of the fittest. And I happen to have wheels; take that quadrupeds. Though I have yet to be chased uphill or on gravel. That'd be the end of me.

I came upon a book called Beyond Death's Door by Dr. Maurice Rawlings at a garage sale in Wisconsin. Perfect, because I was getting frantic with what I'd do with my time once I finished my current book. It was written in the late 70's when resuscitation techniques became proven and widespread. Dr. Rawlings discussed his documentation of the patients that were pronounced clinically dead and lived to tell the tale, whether pleasantly good or terrifyingly bad. A simple short read for those interested.

Then we have fear of reasonable things- our parent's wrath when we're little when we do something bad, or what happens if one of our love ones gets hurt, or if we fail. Those fears transform us into respecting our elders, respecting nature, and respecting failure. Respect is an essential part of life and why we are largely afraid of things. Or should I say the end goal is to develop respect for what we fear: God, nature, death, life. Which, by the way, is the origin of the term Halloween- All Hallows Eve/All Soul's Day, although it has Irish and Scottish pagan roots. It's a holy day of obligation for you Catholics out there (go to church!).

In other news, this is my 61st day of my bicycle trip, entering New Hampshire, typing this post in a cozy Bed & Breakfast:

Donna & John Andersen
Breakfast on the Connecticut
651 River Road
Lyme, NH 03768

I'll be staying in Lincoln tonight and arrival to Bar Harbor, ME will be Thursday. Some numbers for y'all:
Days: 61
States: 10
Days of Sun: 50
Days of Rain: 10
Days of Snow: 1
Days of Sickness: 4
Rest Days: 23
Mountain Passes: 3
Hikes: 4
Miles travelled: around 4,000
Miles by-
Bike: a lot
Train: 1,400
Car: 120
Days in Tent: 40
Days under Roof: 21
Showers: 28
Laundry: 12
Flat tires: 0
Ounces of gas consumed: 38
Calories burned: 250,000
Books read: 5
Days with Monks: 6
Days with Family: 12

Until next time.

Bicycle Banter: Aromas

These are the aromas of Ontario
Young tomatoes by the truckload all over the road dodged and smashed but plump and full of seed and juice.
Dehydrating burning tobacco kilns sending their pungent pervasive aroma easterly
Monsterly peppers hanging and laying on the fertile soil deceiving the eye but seizing the tongue
Brown cows black cows spotted brown and black cows signalled by lingering manure and hay grazing and perplexed by mammals mooing must be another cow they say
The faint charcoal BBQ smoke of suburban invisible families enjoying food and drink on the land while I move along the land
These are the aromas of Ontario.

Episode 17: Twitter 101

Before you do anything else, follow these instructions:

A) SMS "follow @across2worlds" to 40404 (Twitter),

or

B) Go to Twitter, sign up and follow me.

If you've been living under a rock the past 6 years, or one social-media website is enough, I give you Twitter. Not actually giving you, but educating you with the facts. Twitter is a micro-blogging service to tell the world what you're up to in 140 characters. You can follow famous people like the U.S. president (@barackobama) or your favorite actor/actress (@tomhanks/@zooeydeschanel). And find trending topics classified under hashtags (#monasticpilgrimage) to classify what's happening in the world. Yes I am simply using you to increase my followership.

If you kept on reading to this second paragraph and haven't followed me already, shame on you; you must have been one of those problem children in school. Just kidding, I still love you. Many people have been asking where I am at exactly this moment (Shawano, WI) and where I'll be the next few days so Twitter becomes better than Facebook because, unlike Facebook, you can follow and unfollow whomever you please and is more social-media acceptable than a Facebook unfriend. *gasp* If I indeed unfriended you on Facebook, it's because we haven't talked in years. I'm sorry and you're welcome to friend me again. I simply don't need 1,200 friends.

After this simple passive-committal step, you'll be able to get up-to-the-minute report of everything (via SMS, mobile app, and stationary app) that I don't post on Facebook or this blog. It's like one of those stalking relationships where you look at pictures of your 1st grade elementary crush. Yes, I just admitted that publicly... but this is rather useful information, like where to eat if you happen to be in Shawano, Wisconsin.

Woo. Completely transparent. Like Lance Armstrong, who for the record, passed every in-competition test. A winner in my book, not some sports politics on who has jurisdiction in deciding his fate. Doped up or not, he still won the Tour de France 7 times among others. He bested Miguel Indurain at the 1993 World Championship before cancer, the 5-time winner of the TdF and physiologically better than Armstrong with a resting heart rate of 29 compared to 33, and a VO2 max of 88 ml/kg/min compared to 84. And he survived cancer treatment. How many people do you know do that and accomplish more thereafter? Food for thought.

Last but not least, the two people I miss at the moment:

Cousin David and Kyle

Until next time.