LESSON #116: Soul ride, take it easy
Heinz, a man of indescribable patience, good nature, and quality of character - and the resident artist here at Bayram’s hostel - has left the building. After over two months, he was a foreign institution of sorts along with Katie and I, representing Australia humbly. However, what makes his story unique is that he came overland, mostly by bicycle, with nothing but a few kilos to carry and an idea or two floating around in his head about what would come next.
I was a few paces away, chatting with some other guests, as he rolled out on his bike and took to the road, making no big to-do, just as I thought he might do. I had the feeling he would part soon. And so it was, on a day like any other here in Olympos, after Turkish breakfast and tea.
Yesterday, the day before his departure, he kindly let me borrow his bike, trusting me with his only personal source of transportation, without a second thought - something I take with great appreciation.
Katie pointed out that it would be the first time that I left Olympos in 6 weeks, except for my unseasonable kayak trip about 10 kilometers off the coast. The 30-kilometer roundtrip bike ride took me through Olympos village, passed a river bend, cutting through jaw-dropping mountainscapes, shining with the glow of the sun between parting low-hanging cumulus clouds. Gazing at all this, I could get a feel for where we are. This is not only my Paradise, but peoples’ lives, peoples’ goats they must herd in the hot sun, peoples’ clothes that need hanging, and peoples’ kids that new feeding.
I was not naive to all of this, but sheltered in a sort of alternate reality. It’s become standard for me to look at life in awe over the past 9 months, as though I’m living in some parallel reality (Maybe I am.) Seeing the connections of one event to another, it’s almost unimaginable to think that such leaps have been possible.
But they are.
I arrived 2 hours later to Adrasan, the town just west of Olympos, connecting the ancient Lycian trail. A mere handful of people peppered the pristine stretch of beach, framed by mountains with their proud peeks singing to the constant blue sky. The waters were warm; seeing my feet was like looking through undulating glass. Diving head first I came up for breath feeling whole, blessed in my solitude for I am blessed in my gratitude. To be alone - really alive, not just surviving - in a world that revolves at an extraordinary pace, I can’t help but raise my eyes to the sky and give thanks to whatever made this possible. It’s brilliant how slowing down can get you back in sync with the motions of the planet, giving change in life a whole new light. The opportunities are there for all of us. As Meryl Streep once said, “In life, there is only change, resistance to change and then more change.” Its not a 4-letter word, change; it’s joy.
Riding back as the day neared closer to night, watching my shadow play against the asphalt, gliding alongside the rows of orange trees, I had no other instinct that to raise my hands high to the infinite sky as it orbited with me in cosmic unison with every atom in my body and yours. In harmony with nature, with time, with space, and with spirit, and whatever reality I happen to be in, I felt my body give in to the chills traveling up and down my spine, as I felt some of the most visceral happiness of my life.
And I smile.
