By Bruce Farrow on March 2, 2015
The lone motorcyclist pulled up next to a road sign. It was early evening and the sun was setting over the desert. The air was warm and dry and the hot engine ticked as it cooled, breaking the silence of the open space.
The rider removed his helmet and looked around and reflected what had brought him to this place. The road had been a metaphor for his life, winding its way through all kinds of terrain, some beautiful, some ugly, some ups and some downs.
There had been some highlights along the road where the beauty of the landscape had been matched by the friendliness of the locals. Places where he had spent some time, enjoying the society and the location. In other places the scenery had not been so good and he had always tried to get past those places knowing something better would be further down the road, leaving the negative energy of the people in those places behind him. He didn’t need them.
He pondered how, in life, that some people focussed on bringing others down to their own level. Was it jealousy? Was it their feelings of inadequacy? Were their insecurities the problem? Whatever the reasons he accepted that wherever he went in this world, there would be people who had wasted their lives and that was sad. It had been their decisions that had taken them to those ugly places and their choices that they had made. Where they were was totally their own responsibility and there was nothing he could do about it.
He smiled as he thought of the beautiful places surrounded by stunning scenery and populated by wonderful people who had been interested in his journey and shared experiences with him of their own. These were people who embraced the world around them, rather than trying to destroy it. They fed off each other, seeking the good in everyone and coaching their peers to a better life. The beauty of the people was always reflected in the scenery and happiness and love exuded from those places.
In one place he had met someone who had changed his outlook on life. He had first met the guru in a small town in Wyoming. He had spent time with this wise person who gave him a new perspective on his life and allowed him to find new purpose to his previously wandering adventures.
During that brief time with the guru he had found direction and was headed where he needed to go, objective in mind. Could he make it happen? He was certain! Nothing else mattered! He was a man on a mission!
So now he was a closer to where he needed to be and rested for a moment next to the sign which read “Route 66”. That was significant. He had a decision to make and the more he thought about it the easier it was to make. This was his one chance, this was his purpose, this was what his life was about and as the sun sunk lower in the sky he knew what he had to do.
He fired the engine on his Harley and as he did so, he saw, coming towards him down 66, a speck of light.
As he watched the single light shone brighter as it got closer.
The time had come . . .