I will be hitting the road once again, soon. Just when it seems like the dust is settling from a past venture, i kick up my feet in hopes of finding new terrain. Its not shocking anymore really. With only my blood relatives keeping me grounded, i find my way out the door without any restrictions, say for a couple dogs and belongings. The funny thing about my workings inside my head, as soon as i signed the one year lease on my place, i looked at it like a prison sentence. My father explained to me, (once when we were moving my things across the United States), that my grandfather would move the family with the flip of a coin. Destiny is in the blood, and I am starting to believe i am destined to be moving and moving till a shackle is back on my finger. In my early twenties, with the twinkle of youth in my eyes, fatherhood seemed so obvious in my mind. Imagining myself working out the details of names for children, things we would do, how i would perform in such a role, it all was right there at the forefront of my brain. Now, ten years later, I have settled into singlehood and become a different being. Work is my constant child, i try to shape and form my everyday workings into a labor of love. I go to sleep at night, often worried that i have not accomplished enough, and so i set my alarm for an early rising in hopes of sneaking more hours in for drawing. I recently told my parents i was no longer concerned with having a relationship, that work would be my love affair, and women have often proceeded to plan my life around their wants and desires…which equals valuable time in my mind, that they wish me to sacrifice, so I can do mundane things and watch mundane shows, and be a mundane person by the time I die. This trapping i have found myself in, I read of Kierkegaard while studying in Switzerland, that he himself sacrificed love for the passion he found in God. I’m not comparing God and work, but i do find the time we so value, as a subject for debate in how we as humans decide to possess it, especially in those around us. I would rather condemn myself to a life lived only in sweeping a temple, then be ruled by someone else and their idea of how my life should be spent. The zen teaching allows us only to be in the presence of the moment, one teaching for one moment, no two teachings can possess the same moment. The road has always been a temple for me, and as i sweep my way across it once again, I find favorable peace in the unknown, because the joy of authentic experience is what waits outside our false sense of security. Our homes, our cars, our possessions that claim possession of us, all useless if they restrict our minds the freedom to explore and be found new in each breath.