Steve McAlphabet Motorcycling Music Across America
Simply Being

Simply Being

I stared long and hard at the words that I had written. I considered the strength of my community and the courage it would take to bring it to light. And though I was struck with the compulsion to write as many people as I knew with a stake in Sarasota’s industry, I remembered the phone call from Alicia and stayed my hand from going to my email.

I took a deep breath and looked around the room. I was alone. Though it had only been a couple of days since I started this adventure, it seemed like eons ago since I had been alone. There had been many moments when the aliens had not been by my side, but it seemed that even that time was spent in anticipation of their return. However, in this moment, I was alone, and it felt okay.

There was a sense of accomplishment in the words that I’d written and in how far I had come since my lights went out a few nights before. I let the words rest on the page. I let the cursor blink in anticipation. I let the monitor lull itself to sleep with a slight crackle, just sitting and appreciating the silence, letting time become irrelevant.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the silence, encasing myself in solitude. The shame and the guilt which had seemed to compel me to strive harder over the last few days disappeared. With them, the desire and pride of achieving great things dissipated as well. Even the strength I’d felt in performing these various tasks seemed to meld into a self-contained fury, whereupon I found myself lulled into a state of what can only be described as neutrality.

It wasn’t that I felt any kind of apathy, for I still felt great passion over what would become of my community and how the

world at large would be affected. But the hope that I had felt for my community had not come directly from me, but was shared throughout, taking a certain weight from my shoulders and allowing me to enjoy this moment of stillness. I knew that the lessons that I had learned and all of the story I had written up to this point wasn’t my own, and that even if the words were never read, the ideas they imparted would still find their way to the people who needed them. I silently acknowledged them as being true.

I was simply Being. There was comfort in the knowledge that I didn’t have to strive. I didn’t have to suffer. I didn’t have to shout from the rooftops. All that I had to do was Be, to simply play the cards that I was dealt, to fulfill my role in this story, no matter how great or small.

This is an excerpt from How to Survive an Estralarian Mind Meld. Come back weekly for the next part or order your copy in ebook or paperback today!