# Chapter 3: Shedding My Suburban Identity I watched bushels of hair floating down to the floor. The buzzer vibrated in my hand as each stroke across my skull removed another bale of hair. I looked in the mirror and saw my bright face, uglier than before without my rich brown hair. Yet the whites of my eyes radiated, and the different hues of my face brightened. My first self-given haircut wasn't exactly perfect — some spots were more bald than others. After cleaning up the mess of hair on the bathroom floor, I hopped on my bike and rode to the nearby woods. --- ## Riding Through Richmond The birds were chirping on telephone poles and the green trees lined up in rows in front of suburban houses. Always a familiar smell in Richmond town: a dull earthy smell like asphalt mixed with dirt, moistened by the summer humidity. My uncle Gerry had lent me his mountain bike, a GT Pantera with custom rims and a gel-cushioned seat. Since the weather turned warm, I had been riding rampant through the streets of Staten Island, discovering all sorts of secluded places where I would smoke pot, write poetry, and think about whatever philosophical thoughts arose in those solitary moments. The shapes and species of wildlife served as inspiration. So did the variety of weather and the orbit of sun and moon ever present in the sky above. I took inspiration from wherever I went, each terrain influencing my understanding of how nature and reality operated. --- ## The Geography of Staten Island Staten Island is a very capricious landscape. If one travels to the eastern perimeter of the island, they will find a shoreline of both secluded and more developed beaches running from the northern to southern tip. There are also a variety of parks and fields, giving the island its reputation of being the greenest borough in New York City. Yet besides the greenery, Staten Island has an eclectic mix of suburban development with towns as old as two hundred years. For a wandering biker like myself, there was plenty of places to explore and relax by as I ventured to escape my other-worlds of work, family, and social life. --- ## The Backpack I always had my backpack on me, which usually held books concerning Buddhism, a notebook to write in, my digital camera, and a small vile of cannabis. I drove off into a wooded path just a few blocks from home. It was a narrow stretch of woods with a clear path traveling through it. I found a stump and decided to pop off my bike and take a toke. Before me was a shallow pond with a few ducks in a row, drifting from one side to the other. I enjoyed being the only human eyes in the whole woods. I packed my pipe and proceeded to take a hit. A few minutes later, a shift in consciousness became apparent. While the woods and creatures still looked and felt the same, my interpretations of them changed. Everything seemed less benign and more meaningful and pertinent to existence. It was as if the spirit of the woods would come to the forefront and speak in an inaudible language, communicating an ancient sort of wisdom. Water flowed down a creek, representing the constant changing nature of reality, while the size and strength of a tall tree made me feel courageous. I was knee-deep in beauty, and every bit of untampered wilderness transcended me into a fantasy. And so I wrote poetry, trying to express what I thought and felt about these mystical experiences I was having, which felt very real and substantial. Here, in the woods, stoned, I felt connected to the universe — a concept I never considered from the pew or in the classroom. --- ## The Deer As I scribbled lyrics in my book, I suddenly felt a pang of energy behind my back. I turned my head to look over my shoulder, and not nearly two feet away was a large deer staring straight at me. Our eyes met. Immediately the deer became anxious and stood up on his hind legs, snorting. I panicked for a moment. The deer turned around and galloped away. I was breathing heavy, wondering why the deer and I were so frightened of each other. Maybe it was the eye contact, I thought. Either way, I must have blended in with the surroundings up until the moment I turned to look at him, and the feeling of fear filled the forest. --- ## The Moonrise One time I had ridden my bike to the mid-island beach, which had a long stretch of boardwalk. It was nearing sunset and I was tired from a day of riding around. I stopped at a bench facing toward the water and laid down on my back. A few minutes later, I dozed off. I started waking from my nap. The air was much cooler now, and the light from the sun had faded into dimness. A silvery hue embossed the boardwalk. I looked over to the ocean, and what I saw wrapped me in amazement: A gleaming half moon, tilted to one side just beginning its ascent up from the ocean. It was so large that it seemed within arm's reach. I had never watched a moon rise before. The brilliance and life emanating from that semi-circle of magic sang a hymn to my soul — that there is more to life than what is easily seen on the surface, and that *more-ness* is much closer to who I am. --- *Next: [[Ch 4 - Peace Rock]]*