Now there are bumps in the still place

My wife and I have been driving for two weeks: Joseph, OR. The Black Canyon of the Gunnison River. Fort Collins, Colorado. Yellowstone. Camping along the way:  Southern Idaho.  Eastern Utah.  At the bottom of the Black Canyon.  On a street outside our nephew’s apartment building.  In the boondocks of northern Colorado, eastern Idaho and eastern Oregon.  Home day before yesterday.

Corvallis Ride of Silence 2013

Ride of Silence yesterday evening. I coordinated and led,  seeking a still place inside me below the details of pace and regrouping.

I must have found it, because this morning I feel it every time I seek it. Just as still and sure as ever. But this time the still place has bumps and jiggles, with a sensation of traveling.