Sometimes opportunity comes knocking, and sometimes we create them. When it comes to our professions or the opportunities in life, many of us like to calculate them. We constantly work and make decisions or choices that we think will set us up or spring board us to that next promotion or job down the line that will give us that satisfaction of achievement and see that next big pay check.
The storm must have passed and been over for a while now and he had no idea how long he had been laying in the road. He woke up feeling a slight chill and feeling soaked. He must have just laid there and slept for a while. He opened his eyes, looked around for a bit and surveyed the area. He saw leaves, debris and things of that nature lying around but other than that he didn't see anything else except for his bike.
He sat for hours observing the blue jay, relaxing in the breeze and taking in the sun learning all he could from the bird before deciding that he needed to get back on the saddle and peddle out of town. He took a look at his map, after putting away his pad and pencil and began to map out his route and destination. It was becoming fun to him, calculating the time and distance he would be traveling even though he had no obligation to either.
This past week marked the 2016 Republican National Convention and boy let me tell you, what a unbelievable show it was. An unbelievble show of a dangerous, racist, nationalist sentiment that has always been in America, but picked this stage to make a grand appearance on a national stage. The vitriol that spewed from the mouths of former New York Mayor Rudy Guiliani and Sheriff David Clarke is just a bit of the disgusting legacy that America has decided to put on full view for the world to see.
It's been a few hours since he's had his encounter with the strange begger who wound up teaching him a valuable lesson. He's been pedaling around and exploring this new town that he's in, oddly gazing at the pavement as he rides. He notices all the cracks, rocks, and in some places broken glass that he has to avoid for fear of getting a flat tire. He thinks to himself how much more he enjoys riding on newly laid concrete and road as it provides for a much smoother and faster ride.
As much as I don't want to beat a dead horse or repeat myself, I almost feel like there's nothing else that I can or feel like writing about except for what's been going on in America this past week. I want to continue my story about my wayward traveler, and I will at some point, but the fact of the matter is that this week's events have taken a lot out of me as far as my creative palette is concerned. I wanted to paint this week and couldn't even find the desire to get out the canvas and paint.
So I know I've been in the midst of posting a story the last few weeks but in lue of the events that happened in Baton Rouge recently, I've got to take a break from story telling and speak on this a bit. I've spoken about the unnecessary killing of black men before in my posts and even spoke about how my fellow brothers and sisters don't stay diligent enough to organize and see out change in a post I labeled "Lack Of Focus", about a year ago. And one year later, nothing has changed.
After he rolls into town, about a mile in he is able to stop at a gas station. He locks up his bike to a picnic table that sits outside the gas station wondering what’s a picnic table doing outside a gas station anyway. He takes the opportunity to grab a few snacks and a couple bottles of water and remembers that he can charge his phone through his laptop. So as he comes back outside he sits at the picnic table, pulls out his laptop and begins to do just that.
He’s been riding for two days now, he’s stopped and rested a few times, his phone keeps ringing, undoubtedly friends and family wondering what’s happened to him and where he's gone as he tells himself that he’s going to answer the phone as soon as he can figure out a good way to tell everyone why he decided to leave in the first place. He struggles to come up with a way to articulate it in a manner that everyone else would understand and the only explanation that keeps coming to his mind is, “It feels right and I just know that I’m supposed to do it.”