Where do you find peace? in anticlimatic

I only seem to find it in motion. Stillness is unbearable, and a drowning silence is too much. I also don’t like jarring clatter, or erratic surprising sounds, but something steady and reliable- a white noise- a wind noise- a wind constant through the open window of a train kind of noise- that’s the kind of sound that calms me to the ground.

I also need to feel that wind on my skin. That soft pressing wall of a reminder that I am being carried against something, through it, onward towards…something else. The sound of it. The feel of it. And of course the actuality of it.

At night I cycle the streets on my brand new Cannondale and climb steep hills just to experience a little of this courtesy of gravity on the way down. On weekends I find the calmest patch of water I can and rip all 25 horsepower my Evinrude can muster wide open, and let my tiny open aluminum boat fly on the wings of combustion.

Various other forms of the same. I always seek them out. Not sure why, exactly. Perhaps to compensate for a pleasant stationary life. Perhaps to prepare myself for the future. Perhaps motion is just the most natural state for life to exist, and therefore it’s easy to find a home there.