The Morning light separates the curtains. Rolling over to adjust, the day’s defeat has already set in. With tight shoulders and a heavy heart, the motivation to get up comes from the little things. A ride on the bike, a coffee date at noon, or sometimes it’s just a full bladder.
Anxiety and depression manifest themselves in so many ways, and it’s not just for the mentally ill. Modern life has become easy and afforded a lifestyle many would not have been able to imagine 50-60 years ago. Within this ease lies a restlessness that is slowly eating us all from the inside out. The drive to earn, collect, and become someone to be remembered pulls most of us through the day. The bigger the house, the nicer the clothes, the more toys in the garage, will show everyone how successful we are. We earn, network, and repeat the cycle endlessly, all to showcase a life sold to us through marketing campaigns from the moment we are born.
Although some seem to move through life more easily than others, don’t be fooled. Their threshold for pain and bullshit might just be higher. During my short time on earth, I, too, have struggled with the aforementioned. Whether I was in a blue-collar job unloading produce from a truck, or sitting in an office as an acting director in corporate America. Something always followed me and showed itself in every face I interacted with. That was navigating families are tough, work is hard, and life is a fucking challenge.
Stress and pent-up anxiety showed themselves in every face I interacted with. Seeing that, you’d think we’d be able to band together and lift each other up, yet we still hide behind our masks and pass judgment when someone is having an off day or not pulling their fair share of the workload.
Is it the same nervous energy that pushes us forward that allows us to leave our fellow man out in the cold? Is it the self-centered internal battles that shower us in shame so we are unable to speak up and ask for help?
So many of us are suffering, and although some days are better than others, and you can’t always see the pain in everyone’s faces, I promise you it’s still there. Although I do not have the answers on how to feel better, I have been part of small communities that can dull the pain. Ironically, the same late-stage capitalism that hollowed out so much of our shared sense of purpose also gave many of us the freedom to find meaning through hobbies, passions, and communities of like-minded people.
That’s why a morning coffee with friends matters more than we realize. Why a long motorcycle ride feels therapeutic. Why a familiar face at a local shop can quietly pull someone back from the edge without either person even realizing it.
Even though we are told fulfillment comes from achievement, accumulation, and attention, most days survival comes from small interactions. A conversation. A shared laugh. Someone asking how you’re doing and actually waiting for the answer.
That’s also why rides like the Distinguished Gentleman’s Ride resonate with so many people. Beneath the polished bikes and dressed-up riders is something much more human. A reminder that community still matters. That checking in on your friends matters. That men are carrying far more than they often let on.
Maybe the ride is really just an excuse to bring people together long enough to remind each other that none of us are completely alone in this.
I don’t think the pain ever fully disappears. Life remains hard, uncertain, and heavy in ways we rarely want to admit out loud. But community softens the edges. Purpose can still be found in the spaces between productivity. And sometimes just knowing someone else understands the weight you’re carrying is enough to get you out of bed in the morning.
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