Motorcycle Diaries, Mexico: Rediscovering God

Journal 6/2/2024

What better a time to write a motorcycle diary then just after riding through a torrential downpour, nearly dying, for a solid 45min down the highway in remote Mexico, with no where to stop for cover. I was having a blast.

It hadn’t rained once, not even threatened for the entire week I’d been here. Of course, when I take off on a questionable dirt bike with misaligned handlebars and a sometimes-working rear brake, it pisses.

I was scared, but focused, and confident I could make it. I felt like Matthew McConoughey in Interstellar, “Tars, raise the air pressure 15%, over”.

I was praying in Spanish, doing all sorts of loopy shit.

In my professional motorcycle gear - basketball shorts, a now-sopping white tee, and high-top Air Force 1s - I was rollin’ fast downhill on the steep asphalt road, knowing one small mistake could very well end me.

I made it - Air Forces drenched, shirt weighing 20 lbs from all the water.

Getting back to a hot meal and shower gave me immense gratitude and perspective. It honestly brightened my day a lot - since, I’ve felt a lot better, after spending the morning in a very bad place.

It was… God.

Let’s talk about that for a moment, this idea of God.

Throughout my life, I’ve transitioned from Christian to Atheist to Agnostic to Spiritual to Buddhist to whatever I am now.

I’ve explored various religions and beliefs, sat with those from all walks of life, and have evolved in my view over time. I detail that evolution below.

The Journey Begins - Atheism and Agnosticism in Early Life

It still feels awkward saying that; using this word, ‘God’. For many years, nearly my entire life, I’d considered myself an atheist at some points in life and an agnostic at others.

At an earlier age, in my teens, I believed in fact there was no God; atheism. Later on, I transitioned to the belief that while there may be something out there, it’s simply impossible for us to know, so I don’t believe there isn’t a God, but it feels like conjecture to assert that there in fact is.

I don’t regret this time and don’t feel ashamed of it. I’d begun questioning things I was raised to believe, and I’m proud of my teenage self for thinking critically, or at least starting to ask questions.

Becoming ‘Spiritual’

Later in life, when I was in my mid-twenties, I began playing with the idea of ‘spirit’. The spirit of this and that; the spirit of the mountain.

I began to wonder whether mother nature was almost a sentient being, governing the earthly patterns.

Hiking in Peru for five days straight and nearly going batshit crazy after having been on the road for three months by myself, I began to listen. 

Now look, I know that these places love to spice things up for Gringos. Take advantage of those Hippy-spiritual folk trying to ‘find themselves’ and all that shit.

So I’m very wary of anything I hear in these tourist hotspots like Cuzco (the base for trekking to Machu Picchu). 

But they again spoke of the spirit of the mountain, and how one must respect the mountain, else she will punish you (i.e., invoke an avalanche that smashes your town to pieces).

And that shit resonated; this ‘aliveness’ in mother nature, this voice, this ability to both bless and harm you at her will.

That’s my Hippie phase, though I do still believe in the power of Mother Nature and I pray to and thank her everyday. Disrespect her, she drops a fucking avalanche on your ass. So be careful, buddy…

The Old Me

That very concept is why I’d always rejected religion. “Do X, and you, my brother, are going to be fuckkkked”. It’s like, “believe in this based on fear, and if not, you are destined for an ETERNITY IN HELL dude.”

I also rejected what I’ll call ‘White Christianity’ because I’d always felt those people rejected me. They’d positioned themselves as above me in this seemingly cult-like way, and I never liked that.

Until I was confronted.

Fast forward to present.

Within the last year, for whatever reason, I’ve found myself once again able to use the word ‘God’ following over a decade of omitting it from my vocabulary.

I found myself, dare I say, praying. Every day. I found myself in some sort of budding relationship with God, with the Universe, with a higher power.

I found myself utterly grateful just to be here, just to fucking live and breathe and talk to people. I felt compelled to thank someone for the simple privilege of experiencing life, right here, right now.

I still don’t know how it came about. 

When people experience something so profound and wonderful, they tend to attribute it to God. 

Here’s my theory, which very well may be bullshit, but let’s entertain it for a second: I was doing that, this attributing of a miracle to God, with my life’s changing in the past couple of years.

I don’t mean to be dramatic; people evolve. But years ago, my life was, to put it lightly, fucking miserable. I was a miserable person.

Allow me to paint you a picture…

Through college, I was badly depressed damn-near all of the four and a half years I was there. This is because, before college, I’d endured some pretty fucked up shit, and with no ability to process or deal with it, learned unhealthy coping mechanisms.

We aren’t taught how to deal with our ‘shit’. Our pain, our trauma, our rejection, our abandonment, our anger, our sadness, our anxiety.

When we look to our environments, the vices are placed right into our hands, baby. Alcohol, drugs, pornography, sex, food, gambling, and even seemingly innocuous ones like social media, Netflix, texting, or gossiping.

I dabbled with them all.

I digress. But I paint this picture to tell a story - my story. Through the extremely painful and lonely journey to face the past and rip all that shit out of me, accept myself, and just become a bit healthier, physically and mentally.

Finding God

How could one make that change? How could one be miserable their entire life, with acute highs fueled by an external substance or behavior, then transition to overwhelming gratitude? How could someone hate themselves for over a decade, then end up deeply believing in themselves?

Maybe that’s why I began to find myself praying. I never consciously made the connection (“ah, my life got better, there must be a God”).

Maybe, just maybe, that’s why I unconsciously started to entertain the idea that maybe somebody is watching over me, and subsequently looked up and realized “holy shit, I’ve been praying every day for the past three months.”

I am not religious, though I no longer reject religion. I am exploring religion, and while I don’t see myself diving deeply into any one in particular, I’m curious to get new perspective.

I’ve been to a mosque and prayed with Muslims and dined with them as they broke their fast during Ramadan. Shoutout to Azhar, my brother, who warmly welcomed me in.

I’ve been to the Thai Buddhist temple for a Muay Thai training camp and got to meet the Buddhist monks who lived there; read books on Buddhism, and really felt it resonated.

I’ve been to ‘house church’ with the Christians. They fed me, took an interest in me, and prayed for me. Shoutout to my brother, Aimon, who extended his hand in warm invitation to join his community.

Agreement #2: Take Nothing Personally

The most confronting experience was with, as I called it, ‘White Christianity’. Here, among the people I’d long rejected and felt rejected by, I was forced to address these old beliefs I’d held onto so long that I’d forgotten I had them.

I got to see, crystally clear, how I’d actively worked to differentiate myself from those with a similar background to me.

But fuck all of that. Why had I rejected them so harshly? Because I’d rejected the parts of ME that I saw in them. The old me - remember, the fucked up one - had those ‘white Christian’ elements to him, and I reject him, so therefore I reject your asses. That was my logic, unconsciously.

If you’ve read “The Four Agreements”, this will sound familiar to the agreement of never taking anything personally. Having seen in myself that when I judge others, it’s actually me judging myself, I now have the perspective to know that when someone judges me, they are projecting their ‘shit’ onto me.

In Conclusion

Thank you God and thank you Universe. I don’t know if there’s a difference; I don’t know if Christians and Muslims and everyone else are praying to the same God or different ones. I think it’s the same. My life is better with God in it. With the acknowledgement that there is something bigger than me, but fortunately, it’s guiding me to where I need to go.

The Story is Over; Here’s More of Me Rambling, and a Pic of Monterrey

God works through people - you want proof? I want to be an actor. I always LOVED Jim Carrey as a kid and wanted to be like him, but suppressed that shit forever until now.I applied for an acting gig online the other day, and was invited to submit an audition which I’d not yet submitted at this point. JUST NOW as I’m writing this paragraph (I’d written this part in Houston), a man walks up and introduces himself in this random coffee shop. It’s the director. He gives me pointers for my audition that I wouldn't have gotten otherwise. What are the fucking odds?

I don’t know if I’ll be a priest or a monk ever, but I’m grateful to have learned a little bit about the religions that have governed peoples lives and principles for thousands of years.

My life is undoubtedly better with the belief that there is something bigger than me, a mysterious and wonderful governing power that gives me not what I want, but what I need. All I know is, I ain’t going back.

Thanks for reading,

CT

Oaxaca State, Mexico | May 2024