Quarter Life Crisis

Quarter Life Crisis

Instead of the hot rod,

I fixed up my bike.

Instead of the implants,

I grew out my hair.

Instead of the trophy bride

I settled myself in.

Instead of the tattoos,

The designer drugs,

The tummy tuck,

I bought saddle bags, nifty lights,

A better set of headphones,

A couple of maps,

A new helmet,

A shitload of granola bars,

A train ticket to the east coast,

A new pair of sneakers,

Several pairs of the spandex bicycle shorts I had

Promised myself I would never wear,

A bag pack

A leatherman

A repair kit

A pump

And I sat on the couch

And saw the price tags

And saw the google map streetview images of the shady, suspect neighborhoods

And the way I would be alone

And the way I did not know where or how to stay

And the way I only marginally knew how to change a tire, in theory

And the way I invested in a grand plan

Once again

Without realizing that forming a plan requires a formed plan

And I sat on my couch,

And rescheduled my train ticket

And no, this time I will not need carriage car accommodations for a bicycle

And no, I’ll be going further up the coast this time

To somewhere familiar

And yes, I will only need a ticket for one

But I’ll be crashing with familiar people in familiar places

Saving up my journey into the unknown for a full on midlife crisis

I’ve got plenty of time to prepare

At least that’s how it feels

Although this quarter life crisis fell upon me pretty quickly,

So craftily I didn’t see it coming

Until it came,

Face in hands,

My love’s hand rubbing my shoulder

On the couch

In the vortex of finite perspective

When the tunnel on my tunnel vision collapsed

And cut off access to the next stage in the journey

I’m blessed to have so much time off in the year

But I’m not inclined to do anything long term with this

Short term rest

Lay some foundations

Build some bridges

Get off the couch

Get a gig

A mission

A plan that goes beyond buying some gear

For my bicycle and riding for a while

A grown man, at his quarter life

Knowing five years later if he had started

Building the plan five years ago he’d be there

By now,

But instead

On the couch

Comforting hand

Uncomfortable mind

Knowing what its always known,

That there’s shit to get done

And a kick in the ass to get it started.

Pack up the laptop

Pack up the several days of underwear

Pack up the granola bars and cargo shorts

And a nice shirt just in case

And the mp3 player, several books incase one sucks

A pad, a pen, a toiletry bag, a water bottle

Ticket in hand

Take that train trip

Visit those familiar places

Detach, but only enough to know that

There’s no punch in the face in a strange place

Just a few comfortable couches,

A few visits to haunts

A nice picture or several

A museum

A restaurant

A pillow

And a chord, leading back

No matter how many miles it may lead

To something more than familiar

Something settled and not ready to explode

Unless that explosion is a new level of productivity

A quarter life crisis where the end results

Are not the splurges and reformations of

An entire life style

But the rearrangement of perspective

A loosening on the walls of the tunnel vision

Just enough to realize that this tunnel has multiple

Junctions, and they don’t have to lead somewhere

Glamorous, or alien, or beyond the means of personal

Capability

Be a man

Be a person

Get together

Make a plan

Figure out its details

Relish in their foundation

Prepare for another quarter life

And format the details so that,

When the next quarter comes

It does not come crashing out of nowhere

On the couch

Head in hands

Bike packed

And instead eases its way into realization

A familiar old friend

Once again reminding me that I got it right the first time.