command decision

I've decided to spend a few months recuperating at home in Alexandria, VA, doing temp work of some sort (test grading, tutoring French, etc.), and helping the parents with their house's renovation.

It's been hard, deciding to make this move. I'll be losing so much time by doing things this way, and whatever hopes I had for finishing the walk before my 40th birthday have severely dimmed.

On the bright side, I'll be able to use the time constructively. Not only will I be able to earn some cash, but I'll also have access to a host of religious institutions in the DC-Metro area. Perhaps I can recruit some people to help me plot my path. As commenters have suggested, I can use this time to create a network of interested hosts (CouchSurfing and otherwise), connecting the dots a goodly way across the country.

As a friend suggested privately, there's no reason to think of what I'm doing-- going back to Virginia-- as "giving up." The walk will continue; it's immaterial whether I rest for four or five months in Walla Walla or Boise or Alexandria-- rest is rest, so why not do it where the lodging and meals are guaranteed to be free of charge? After all, I will pick up where I've left off. Walla Walla will see me again in the spring-- perhaps slimmer, stronger, and more energetic, if I'm not lax about training.

So that's my command decision. With so many offers of help leaning in the same direction-- a free ride to Portland (well, we're gonna pay for gas), a free flight to Virginia, and free room and board once I'm home-- it seems almost silly to say "no" to all the signs.

Remember the classic joke about the man in the flood? It goes something like this:

An awful flood caught a certain city unprepared, and people suddenly found themselves in a mad rush to escape. But not everyone: one man stayed put even as the streets were buried inches deep in water.

A jeep drove by and the driver called out to the man: "Get in! We'll get you outta here!"

"No, thanks," said the man. "I have faith that God will save me." The driver shrugged and sped off.

The water rose. The man scrambled onto a balcony and continued to wait. A motorboat puttered by; its operator shouted through the rain, "Come on board!"

As before, the man said, "No, thanks. I have faith that God will save me."

Soon, the water had gotten so high that the man was on his roof. A helicopter flew overhead, swaying dangerously as it tried to hover in the storm.

"We're throwing a line and harness down to you!" a man shouted from the copter's side door. "Grab it, hitch up, and we'll pull you in!"

The man smiled beatifically and waved the copter off. "No thanks," he shouted into the downdraft. "I have faith that God will save me!" The helicopter left.

Not long after that, the waters rose even higher...and the man drowned.

Finding himself before God's throne, the man shook his fist angrily at the Lord and said accusingly, "I'd put all my faith in You! Why didn't You try to save me?"

"What, are you blind as well as stupid?" countered God. "I sent you a Jeep, a boat, and a helicopter!"

Substitute the word "pride" for "God" (my pride will save me), and I'm that guy.

I don't want to be that guy, so I'm going home. Final details are being worked out, but Operation Extract Kevin is under way.

Many thanks to all the commenters who've helped me think this through. The input's been helpful.


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