This is what has been keeping me up at night. Anyone who has known me for any length of time is surely not surprised that I'm reading a book by Neil Peart. Even an old book by Neil Peart. Though I must admit, I am excited about reaching the destination so that I can start the new(er) book by Neil Peart.

There's something about the way he writes that makes me want to do things that I would have never even considered worthwhile before. It's like someone who is just thrilled about their new Russian underwater basket-weaving hobby convincing me that I, too, must learn to weave! That would take a damn lot of convincing. Yet 2 chapters and half an hour later, Peart had me wanting to ride a bicycle (ow.) through Africa (hot...sweaty...outdoors.) staying in 1/4 star "hotels" (definitely no room service.). Somehow he made it sound, well...necessary. You know, like something I should do before I die.

I used to be adventurous. Now I have to work myself up to hit around my whiffle golf balls in my own back yard. When did I become so complacent? When did I become so afraid?

I know that a bike tour through Cameroon is probably not the answer. But there has to be more to life. There just has to be.


cjh said...

I totally relate. I'm not sure where the fear came from either. It's just a passive thing. And when I force myself to do something out of my comfort zone I often enjoy it. Still, why the hesitation? Got me.

Cheryl said...

I've always wanted to go on a safari in Africa - I used to think about the exitement of the wild animals, trying new food, sleeping outdoors. Now I think about lack of showers, the heat, and discomfort of travel. What's with us?