A dedication to gentle hands....

Mother
Thinking 'bout you now as always, getting ready for the trip, going across the big pond and to your own birthplace. I want to say thanks for everything, my first steps into the world were gently coaxed into being by you and as I grew your hands remained ever present ready to catch me. And many times catch me you did, tho' in ways I am just now beginning to understand, such hands as they were filled with love and understanding.
I am humbled more and more every day as I realize the dedication and commitment you undertook to raise me with integrity, truth, love, joy, happiness and most of all..laughter! Your steadiness knew no bounds, and often it is true that we realize these things much later, now as I see young Quinn and think "you fortunate little man, raised with such attentiveness and care, love and dedication, patience and joy" . And so I dedicate this journey to you, Mom, with infinite gratitude and many bows. May your love and joy spread infectiously throughout the universe,
Knowing we are never separate, I rejoice, and 3 dimensionally, I miss you!
As I have grown now to boyhood, I take confident steps and leaps and bounds knowing my boundaries in love are limitless and my lessons never ending. I see you in the morning sky and the evening sunset, where the lines between dream and awake blur and take me toward no-thought, there you dwell, in limitlessness and truly, beyond words.


Form comes and goes,
Changing
essence remains
inspires,
and truth
lives to tell
the inevitable story

See you around,
Your son
Roger ;) xoxox

PS Dad looks pretty sexy in that yellow jersey of his, I'll have to keep an eye on him. He likes his front panniers because they're just the right size to carry about 3 bottles of wine, a baguette and some foie gras. Just the kind of food we'll need after pedaling 100+ kms a day no doubt, I'll be there, good son that I am, to help out with the wine. I know you'd be trots op me.

And so it begins

And so the journey begins, the last year and a half of planning is finally coming to a head as Dad and I prepare for our departure. Ready we are, Dad has but one more day's work left and then it's off. Autumn bears down on Canmore like a slow moving train, steady in it's inevitable course, and I like that I get to taste at least its beginning. Dad busies himself with the last errands and other small details, indeed without him this trip should be much less smooth, as I tend to fly by the seat of my pants. So he, in essence, is the navigator and that is well, for lost isn't something he usually says he is, altho' on a trip such as this, being lost only means that we are not where we thought we might be. Nothing is fixed except certain key waypoints, other than that, we get to dive into the timeless essence of the moment, with no real schedules to keep, just the wind at our backs (hopefully) and the gentle push and pull as pedal stroke after pedal stroke guides us along. Perfect!
Here we are. With no expectations and a pilgrimage to explore, I say, let it be as it is!
And that's saying a lot.
See you next blog