I woke up to Ravi, wearing a fine looking suit, bringing me a hot cup of tea. I slept better than ever. He told me to go back to sleep. This is a very young man who really has his shit together. I ate breakfast with Lynn, who has Tuesdays off. We talked and watched her daughter play and wander. She's as cute and happy a child as anybody could ever want. I folded my laundry and repacked my panniers. I left, waving goodbye. I borrowed a book.
I can't decide on words to describe how refreshing it is to realize that your trust and love for humans is restored. It feels great to be nearly baffled by kindness. I want to take this and spread it out, make a thin layer of kindness and blanket a crowd.
Was yesterday full of fate? Why did I cycle off in a random direction? When I found a Park Tools cycling cap - was that a sign that I was on the right path in spite of my directions? Why did I cycle so far south, and not take a few minutes to realize that I could more quickly and easily connect to my directions considerably further north? Why did I see a cooking show in my Aunt's apartment that taught me how to cut pineapple? It was a beautiful day, full of calm perfect mistakes. Is that fate? I still believe more strongly in coincidence and thoroughly random chance - just for the record. Stronger still is my belief in my own thorough ignorance about all such matters.
Back to this day. I rode easy, stuck to the directions, went just shy of 60 miles, ended up in the woods behind a bar. Spent a lot at the bar, got all fucked up. No regrets. Got up at 9am with my head full of clouds. Now it's 10:30 and I'm typing this shit in Dunkin Donuts. I have my whole life ahead of me, and today my only goal is to roll into Bar Harbor in about 40 miles. Too easy. I'm having a megafuckin great trip.