In this powerful memoir, following the death of his mother, Tyson Motsenbocker retraces the journey an 18th century priest took in this harrowing story of one man’s pilgrimage of healing and finding beauty and hope in tragedy.
After years on the road performing at sold-out venues, Tyson Motsenbocker returned home to the impending death of his 57-year-old hero and mother. He begged God to heal her, but she died anyway. When they buried her body, Tyson also buried the childhood version of his faith.
Shortly before her death, however, Tyson became intrigued by the complicated legacy of Father Junipero Serra, the 18th-century Franciscan monk and canonized saint who dedicated his life to the idea that tragedy and suffering are portals to renewal. Father Serra built Missions up and down the California coast, spreading Christianity, as well as enabling and aiding in the oppression and colonization of the native Californians. Tyson discovered Serra’s “El Camino Real,” a 600-mile pilgrimage route up the California coast that had been largely forgotten for more than 200 years.
Two days after they buried his mother, Tyson set out on a pilgrimage of sorts, intending to walk from San Diego to San Francisco along the El Camino, following in the footsteps of the saint. Tyson’s journey takes him down smog-choked highways, across fog-laden beaches, past multi-million-dollar coastal estates, and along the towering cliffs of Big Sur. And as he walks, Tyson also wrestles with his faith, questioning the pat answers and easy prayers he once readily accepted, trying to understand how hope and tragedy can all be wrapped up in the same God. The people he meets along the way challenge his understanding of the meaning of security, of what it means to live a meaningful life, and of the legacies we all leave behind.
Where the Waves Turn Back is both part journal and part spiritual memoir, and ultimately, a thrilling and deeply satisfying read that asks questions that will resonate with readers seeking meaning in an utterly disorienting age.
Very interesting memoir that felt like a blend of Crying in H Mart and Greenlights (which sounds strange but I'm going to stand by the comparison) with the added complexity of trying to understand God in the midst of grief and loss.
It was also interesting for me as a person living in California. I liked the details about the El Camino and and his exploration of Junípero Serra, the person, and all the complexity that goes with him. I enjoyed hearing the author's reflections and everything he learned about God and himself in this time. I appreciated how he doesn't get answers to all his questions and you're left to wonder with him and the other people he meets about some of life and religion's biggest questions. (Maybe that's also why the ending felt super sudden to me? I wanted more resolution..)
The writing itself was so evocative and really put you in each city, at the table or in conversation, with whomever he was talking. And while he shares so much in the memoir, it feels like he must have left even more out. Sometimes the writing was almost too carefully pored over though and that was the one thing that slightly bothered me. I'm a wordy, artsy person and I felt he probably spent too long rewriting some individual sentences.
“I was bitter that other people had things that I wanted, but most of all, I was bitter that nobody seemed to notice, that nobody cared, that all those blank eyes in the cars going the other direction passed on and through into a world where I didn’t exist again.” (p. 195)
“…To avoid suffering is to avoid living, and to suffer all the same.” (p. 250)
If you’ve listened to Letters to Lost Loves, read this book. If you haven’t listened to Letters to Lost Loves, listen to it, read this book, and then listen to it again. I was familiar with the album before reading Where The Waves Turn Back, but I wept when I listened again after reading it.
At first glance, Where The Waves Turn Back is a memoir about a young man who walks for 40 days after his mom dies. At the same time, it’s an examination of society from someone who chooses to walk outside, sometimes beside it. It reads like listening to a friend’s travel story; there are tangents, jokes, and poignant observations throughout the narrative.
It’s a story that visits the past - the Spanish missions of California, Motsenbocker’s childhood, the journey itself - and looks to the future with the wish, “I hope you find infinite beautifulness” (p. 196).
What a great memoir. Honest and personal. Very well written, incorporating many angles that may seem choppy or disconnected, but I felt were more authentic to the grief pattern, using memory, history and emotion to share a grief journey. Maybe I liked it because a few years ago drove the highway southbound with my daughters and understood the landscape while simultaneously grieving my own mother this last year. It was so good and timely, I want to turn around and listen to it right away again. Author read on Audible. Strongly recommend.
A memoir about processing grief that perfectly balanced heartbreak with humor. That sounds heavy, and it is, but this book deftly balances weighty reflections on faith and life with dry wit and anecdotes from the road.
Sometimes you read something or hear a song or see a movie that just hits you: it’s an ultra specific story or lyric that comes out of the writer’s personal experience but the telling of it feels like it’s for you.
It’s so cool to be able to read a book from a musician I love. He’s an incredible lyricist, so it only makes sense he would be good at writing a book too. I loved the vulnerability in this book as he discussed his battle with trusting God after his mother’s death.
An excellent handbook for those struggling with grief. Growing up, very few of us are taught how to grieve the loss of those we love— most of us have to learn as we’re going through it. Where The Waves Turn Back is a beautiful reminder that doubt and faith can coexist; that struggling to navigate suffering isn’t exclusively isolating. I didn’t know I needed this book until months after I put it back on the shelf. Tyson writes as if you are walking on the beach with a friend and unloading the burdens of your heart, knowing that you don’t have to clean up the edges or make your pain palatable. Walking through loss isn’t coming out on the other side settled in life without that person, but seeing the void and remembering that we loved and were loved well.
I love Tyson. I saw him play a solo opening set for Switchfoot a few years back & connected with his music instantly. He doesn’t talk about this part of his life much in his live shows — at least the times I’ve seen him. But wow. Does it come through in his music. I’ve only noticed it now that I’ve read his memoir. I’m so glad Jon Foreman told him he needed to write this.
The moment he arrives in San Francisco & sees his mother’s memory as he decides whether to pour her ashes out at the Golden Gate Bridge? Those “meetings & partings” line? Wrecked me.
Loved this book so much. It’s all the emotion, questioning, wrestling, beauty and hardship that comes with being a human on this planet. It’s made even better if you’ve listened to his album Letters to Lost Loves, but it is not a requirement to throughly enjoy this memoir of a physical journey that runs parallel to a spiritual journey. Whether or not you’ve heard his music before, finish the book and then go listen to his first album. It’s an impactful pairing.
It's about life's grief walked out over a couple hundred miles. It's about slow progress, almost constant physical discomfort. It's about pressing into the boredom of slowing down, and in turn discovering what's on the other side. It's an invitation to walk alongside a fellow human being. Discovering the truth that only time and honest reflection can reveal.
Grief and the death of something/someone has to be one of the most difficult things we are forced to experience in our lives - I felt privileged to be invited into Tyson’s journey, both through the California coast and through his processing the passing of his mother. Probably one of the saddest books I have ever read, for what it prompts within you outside the pages.
Books about grief are powerful. Not because they always have the answers or make everything feel okay, but they allow us into someone’s story and intimate human experience. Didn’t think a book about walking along the missions would be as funny either, but it is.
A wonderful journey following the steps and travels of the author through the California coast as he processes the passing of his mother. This book made me laugh at times and the had me considering my own place in life at times. A truly enjoyable read.
It is rare for a memoir/biography to pull me in so quickly, but Where the Waves Turn Back does a fine job of doing just that. Upon opening the book and reading the author’s note revealing the ‘why’ and ‘when’ this book was written, I’m already hooked. In large part, it’s the author’s candid, vulnerable, conversational style of writing that captivates me.
It is effortless to connect with the author as he tells his stories and exposes his heart so that others may garner the rewards from his incredible, “irresponsible” forty-day pilgrimage along the coast of California. (And the origin of the title is so touching.)
These stories share themes of self-discovery, grieving, hope, and healing. And so much more. It’s a multi-gathering of emotions, realizations, differences, and likenesses that connect us with one another.
First Line (Author’s Note): Where the Waves Turn Back began in a beat-up tour van driving through the middle of the New Mexican desert. Genre: Memoir, Nonfiction Author: Tyson Motsenbocker Page Count: 272
#CoverLoverBookReview received a complimentary copy of this book. Opinions are 100% mine.
This is worth your time to read. It’s clever, doesn’t try to be something it’s not, and ultimately takes you through the CA coast to have a conversation about grief and loss in the midst of a world that is ever unfolding and ever more beautiful.
Where the Waves Turn Back follows the journey of Tyson Motsenbocker through the hills and valleys of California. Following the death of his mother, Motsenbocker embarks on a quest of self discovery, spiritual rebirth, and a reconnection to life.
As a lover of memoirs and non-fiction, I really wanted to love this book. I just could not get into it. There were moments where Motsenbocker tried to connect where he was back to a moment with his mother or about his mother, but he fell short. I was left feeling more confused about the connection of the stories than when I began. He often pauses in a chapter and picks up a sub-plot or a tangent of another story, and then picks up the original story of the chapter in the following paragraph. I was having to piece together various storylines myself that were just confusing or didn’t make sense altogether.
By the fifth chapter, we were finally on the journey through California. It took five whole chapters to even get to the journey! I was so tired of hearing back stories leading up to the journey or side stories and explanations of things that didn’t really mean much in the grand scheme of the story (several of these in chapter 3).
This book could have used another round of serious editing and questioning “is this pivotal to the overall story?” If it had that, perhaps I would have liked this novel more or it would have made more sense to me. I just wasn’t a huge fan.
After the death of his mother Tyson Motsenbocker walks El Camino Riel, 500 miles between LA and San Francisco. The walk takes him through city and country along coast and cliffs. Always questioning his relationship with a God who allows bad things to happen and God's relationship with humanity, this is a story of discovery. This is a book that makes you question yourself, your decisions and relationships with God and man. Along the way, you too may discover many truths. An easy but excellent read. Similarities to Cheryl Strayed's Wild exist but the focus is very different. #WhereTheWavesTurnBack#NetGalley#WorthyPublishing
“Where the Waves Turn Back” is Tyson Motsenbocker’s memoir of walking the Camino Real from San Diego to San Francisco after the death of his mother. The book opens a few weeks before his mother’s death. She’s in hospice and the family has gathered to be with her. In one of her conversations with Tyson, she challenges him to take time to grieve and be sad. She knows that he doesn’t like to sit in sadness and wants him to process his feelings.
At first he is not sure how he will accomplish his mother’s challenge to him. As he reflects, he’s reminded of Junípero Serra who arrived in California during the Spanish colonial period and established a string of missions along the California coast. Tyson recognizes both Serra’s faith that inspired him to travel across the world and dedicate himself to do what God called him. Tyson doesn’t shy away from discussing the positives and negatives of Serra’s legacy; he’s direct about the brutality that colonization brought to the Native Californians. Tyson wonders if he, like Serra, is doing wrong even though he believes it is right. He is inspired to take this journey and test his own faith and pursue the pilgrimage to process both his grief and his faith and find out what kind of person he is.
Beginning at the mission in San Diego, Tyson begins his pilgrimage along the Camino Real and the California Coast. Each chapter is a segment of the trip, usually coinciding with the next mission along the trail. There are a lot of interesting incidents along the way due not only to the fact that the Camino Real is not a developed pilgrimage route ,such as the Spanish Camino de Santiago, but the fact that in many places the Camino Real has been developed into housing or freeways. For most of the pilgrimage, Tyson has to literally and figuratively forge his own trail.
One of the events that stood out to me is when Tyson is in Big Sur at the top of a mountain at sunset overlooking the Pacific. He’s admiring the hillside and all of the foliage, while a bunch of locals and tourists all have their phones out trying to catch a picture of the sunset. Tyson is frustrated that no one is paying attention to the non-cliche beauty of the area before realizing that maybe he is the problem. Just because he does not want another Pacific sunset photo, does not mean that the folks taking the pictures are experiencing any less beauty; for them, this is a special moment.
Tyson then wonders if this is like believers’ relationship with God. Sometimes people of faith think that how they see God is the ONLY way to see God. He considers that maybe God is bigger than one person’s perspective and can be experienced in many different ways, all of which are “correct.”
Along the way Tyson runs into several serious issues. His knees lock up the first day, he ends up covered in human excrement, and later experiences legit loneliness. However, whenever he’s in the midst of these crises, someone always comes along to help. Sometimes it is a stranger and sometimes it is friends who planned to spend time walking with him, the parents of friends who take him in for the night. It reminds me of the famous Mr. Rogers’ quote about always looking for the helpers whenever anything bad is going on.
The part I liked best is when he is at one of the stops towards the end of his journey. He really opens himself up to grief and the memory of his mother. The way he describes the moment is touching and beautiful. Having “traveled” with Tyson up to this point, the reader feels some of that same catharsis. Just as we feel sad for him and his grief, we celebrate that his pilgrimage is fulfilling the challenge.
After completing the book, I wondered what American culture would be like if we had a pilgrimage tradition. I wondered what trails would develop across the country besides the Camino Real. I know that many hikers traverse the Appalachian Trail and Pacific Crest Trail, but is that something that pilgrims of any ability would be able to attempt? And what changes would it bring to the greater culture when we see more and more pilgrims along these routes. Would it remind us that everyone grieves? That everyone needs time to step away from the comforts and recenter themselves?
I would recommend this book to those that enjoy travel narratives and to book clubs. There is a lot to digest and discuss whether individually or with a group. I will say, and this is coming from an English teacher, that some of the narrative structure and writing is not polished or what we might think of for most travel narratives. I can see it distracting some readers, but for me it gave it a more authentic feel, like he was telling me the story rather than me just reading it.
In Where the Waves Turn Back, Tyson Motsenbocker recalled his journey and what led to his great walk. He is a singer/songwriter who has released a few albums. He returned home from selling our venues when his fifty-seven-year-old mother was dying. He shared a personal story about his mother canceled her gym membership and the guy made a comment about why did she need to cancel it and basically asked her why she couldn’t work out anymore even though she was dying. He explained how she was in the in-between and how sometimes she wouldn’t be with them like she was struggling and slowly losing her memory. She stated how she knew her son struggled with feeling sad and he wanted him to do something irresponsible. She compared dying to the ocean and how ocean looks when it is raining and line between the two is gone and you feel like you’re standing on the edge of the world. Later on, he shared how he discovered hidden gifts and letter she hid around the house for him and his sister to open when they got married, had babies, and some were riddles. This greatly helped him.
He decided on the difficult tasks walking from San Diego to San Francisco. In the book, he was very real about stating how he felt God had failed him and his family. He at first had hope that she would always get better and part of this walking journey healed him to heal. He was touched by learning about Father Junipero Serra, who lived in the 18th century and he was a monk and saint. He did his missionary work by traveling up the coast of California. He explained some of his suffering and how he lived out his faith. This is where the idea for doing something crazy by traveling up to coast of California to live out his mother’s last wish. Throughout the book, he shared in detail of traveling and meeting all kinds of people on his final destination. He wrestled with his faith throughout the journey and how their can be hope in Christ and also pain in this life.
I would recommend this awesome and heartbreaking story about him losing his mother and forever being changed. I loved how he went into detail about his whole journey in traveling and walking through the pain. He was very descriptive in his story and I felt like I was walking along and meeting people along the way and healing from my own pain with past grief. I just recently lost my grandmother almost a year ago from cancer. This book helped to think about the same questions and doubts that I have faced. I was also shocked the read about how his mother’s father died. He was accidently killed when he turned a blind corner in his farm truck trying to avoid the drunk driver who had flipped his car. He pinned himself against the hillside and auto steel and they couldn’t get him out. He only discovered the truth when he found the obituary in a box. I don’t think he knew how this affected his mother in losing her own father at a young age. It was interesting to witness how he dealt with his lack of faith and wrestled with questioning God and how this aided him to his path to healing. He desperately wanted to find beauty that the world could still be bright after losing his mother.
"I received this book free from the publisher, Hachette Book Group/Faithwords for my honest review.”
⁉️ Are you more of an outdoorsy or indoorsy person? I’m indoorsy af, but love being shoreside or poolside and sitting on my deck😆 does that count?
BOOK REVIEW Where the Waves Turn Back by Tyson Motsenbocker @japhyrider Pub date: April 11, 2023 272 pages @worthypub
Two days after his mother’s funeral, Tyson goes on a 600 mile pilgrimage on foot leaning into this idea that tragedy and suffering can be a path to renewal.
The path set before him was one set previously in the 18th century by a Franciscan monk, Father Junipero Serra, who built Missions up and down the California coast while enabling and aiding in the oppression and colonization of native Californians. This pilgrimage took place a decade ago, and its clear how much the author’s perspective on Serra’s complicated legacy has shifted since following the literal footsteps of the Monk.
I think including so much of the Serra history is a bit of a tricky sell considering its all presented through the lens of a white man, who did this really cool and difficult thing, but also knew he could be scooped up to safety if he needed it, had a bank account to tap into, and had the security of knowing at the end he’d be home. As much as I enjoyed it, I think there will be some that point out the tremendous privilege just to be able to do something like this. If you can get past the manufactured difficulty, I think you’ll find a tender story here of a son who has lost his mom and is facing an existential crisis.
I did really loved walking these miles with Motsenbocker, with all of these questions about grief and God. As someone who has lost a parent and whose relationship with faith has shifted drastically, it felt like I was walking side by side with Tyson, remembering some of my own journey (though without the blisters, cramps, 💩 crusted backpack, etc). There are some really great insights, funny stories and heartwarming moments throughout.
I was dying to read this. I’m a big fan of the author’s music. I saw him live a few years back when he opened for my favorite band ( @emeryofficial). I’ve followed him and his email newsletter since. Thanks @netgalley @worthypub for the E-ARC
Books about death and grief aren't meant to be neat and tidy. They aren't meant to be filled with happy, clippable, quotable moments reassuring everyone of the goodness of God and the inescapable truth of joy and peace. I lost my brother a month before he turned 15 and a month after I took a solitude retreat to the Oregon Coast. I won't equate my grief journey with Tyson Motsenbocker's, but the desire to come to grips with anger, frustration, helplessness, and confusion felt the same. The journey from San Diego to San Francisco in his words was everything that grief can be: upending, chaotic, peaceful, resistant, angry, depressive, agonizing, and so much more. For those grieving, a journey is catharsis and the same as banging your head against a tree.
Where the Waves Turn Back was both hilarious and heartbreaking. I'm still thinking about it weeks after finishing and I've struggled to figure out the words to use. It's brought up a heavenly host of grief that a battle with on a weekly basis. It's also reminded me that I'm still alive. That my family, immediate, and otherwise, are okay. That, in using Motsenbockers words, "I've come to grips with a God who can be both kind and absent, ... or maybe he wasn't ever absent at all. Maybe he was just being patient." Those words continue to haunt me as I know the truth behind them , but also face the anger that comes with them. Patience is not easy.
I'm thrilled that one of my favorite musicians has written a book. Thankful that I got to read a copy thanks to Worthy Publishing (yes, I did get the book as a review promo). I'm passing it along to my brother who is running the Cali coast this year. He's heading out for the latter portion of his own journey next month... a reverse of Motsenbocker's trip... San Diego to San Fran. Part of his running is with grief in his heart.
I've been reading books about handling grief lately, specifically about losing close loved ones. Curiously, I've never listened to any of Motsenbocker's music, but a friend (who usually nails recs) recommended it to me. I found the audiobook copy, read by the author himself, and I went from there.
Obviously, it is the authors prerogative to tell the story as he sees fit, but it feels like the book was bizarrely written in two different fashions. The first half or so seems to be purely autobiographical - here's what happened in his life, here's where he went, here's what he encountered along the way. There are things that seem obviously false, but then again why would he lie? His deadpan delivery and style doesn't merit any necessary fiction; just that some of the stories are so ridiculous that they're almost difficult to believe.
The latter half of the journey becomes extremely philosophical, filled with fantastic quotes and metaphorical observations about life. Motsenbocker goes from this goofy hippie to a professor/scholar almost on a dime, as if he got to certain point of the book and realized he wasn't really solving much in his journey. The last few chapters, except for the French one, are absolutely fantastic and made me glad that I kept coming back to this book.
I would recommend this book to anyone who has lost a parent figure. I haven't, but it gave me some good viewpoints about loss along the way, and the way Motsenbocker told his story made me laugh out loud several times, while feeling his pain and anguish in others. The early parts started to bog me down and make me wonder if there was ever going to be a point, but the stories were mostly interesting enough (and humorous!) to keep me going. In the end, 4 stars, even though it took me 3 good months to get through it all.
I honestly think this is my new favorite book. The thing I love about Tyson's music is the depth and honesty of it, and getting to read hundreds of pages of those words is a beautiful window into another person's world. And at the same time, this book was wonderfully humorous! The situations and conversations he always seemed to find himself in made me laugh. All in all, it reminded me of our shared humanity.
As a California native, I find myself oblivious to the culture around me. Walking through the state for 40 days, Tyson commented on so many aspects of it that I skip over or take for granted. Really interesting, and I feel like I see my surroundings in a new way now.
If I could encourage anyone who is to read this book, it would be to savor it. Read SLOWLY. Soak it in. I tend to read quickly and skip over words, but there are so many nuggets of wisdom you'll miss if you rush through. I know I missed things, and I look forward to re-reading this book in the future. I promise it is a book worth slowing down for. The book itself is all about the journey, slowing down and noticing things. It reminded me to notice little things and notice others. To be present. A beautiful, much-needed reminder.
“Where the waves turn back is a mashup of things that don’t always go together. It’s heartbreaking and funny, honest about doubts even as it’s deeply hopeful, beautifully written and addictively readable. I am so glad Tyson went on this wonderfully irresponsible journey and I’m glad he wrote about it so we could too. I loved this book.
Me too.
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* I think Junípero Serra cared, about God and about the long arc of his tradition and about the people of California. I think Junípero Serra saw himself as an instrument of the divine. Junípero Serra wrote the first bill of rights for the Native Americans. He stood up against the Spanish brutalization of the tribes and called them beloved and hijos de Dios, sons of God. He was not the conquistadors, but he came with them, and his legacy is inseparable from theirs. If the conquistadors tore down the people, communities, and traditions in their path for the sake of power, the missionaries did so in the name of God. When I look back over the accounts of the two groups, even when I read the words of Serra and his counterparts and visit the beautiful places they built, it is all tumbled together in the rubble of destruction, indistinguishable from the Spanish conquerors. When it comes to looking backward, we cannot ignore impact for intent. But they are also two parts of the same thing. So often, it would seem, even the truth itself is a conflicting idea. Especially when it involves the things we most need to be clean cut and lineated. - "If you're going to be young and reckless, you have to remember two things," I said. "First of all, you have to remember that your plans are terrible. Terrible plans hold hands with big dreams. They make for the most important memories. Sometimes they're the foundations of the best plans. You have to do the plans you have. If you are paying attention, eventually they will become good plans, but you can never let the consequences break your spirit in the process.” “What's the second thing?" the tall one asked. "Don't go down any one-way streets," I said. - things are never better than the moment they are about to be. The moment before embodies the entirety of the thing that comes after. - For me, wandering through a fog is a relief, because it is wonderful to remember that our realities are to be questioned. - I opened my eyes and watched the condensation, gather and run down the inside of the tent for a while, and when I unzipped the flap, I could feel the morning come inside, lazily, in a swaying motion. - I've mentioned it before, but of all the tramps and college dropouts and drug addicts and hippies I met on the road, the most conflicted character, by far, was the retiree. - People who live on the road tend to have found a sense of meaning in the simple passing through, but the RV people are living their life's reward and viscerally discovering it to be hollow. There is a lopsided resting in the old, or at least the ones who were surprised by it. It made me think of someone sitting on a rock, unable to find a comfortable angle, and I was beginning to feel the tragedy of their situation, that they had justified present sufferings with future promises, and that the future, in all of its promise, was only in context by the referencing of the past.
This one completely surprised me. But in the best way. I follow Tyson on Instagram and saw him post about writing a book. I've enjoyed his posts and his music, so I thought I'd check this out. I wasn't ready for the emotions! I felt like I was walking alongside the author (literally as he walked the El Camino Real, but also figuratively as he navigated through the grief of losing his mom.) There were parts I couldn't exactly relate to (I've never visited the places he talks about, though many have now been added to my bucket list) but at the same time, there was a lot I have experienced in my own way. I've met grief. I know what it feels like to profess a faith that doesn't entirely make sense. I've walked alongside friends navigating the end of their marriage relationship. And there have been times I've struggled with real, tangible anger with God. I related to Tyson in all of these ways and found his writing eloquent, inspiring, and even funny. For me, the mark of a good book is one you want to tell your friends about... and this is one I've already shared in more than one conversation. I think you will enjoy it, too.
“Maybe the short flash of peace inside all this heartbreak is the place where you see God. Inside the suffering. Inside a complicated legacy. In the air before the swimming pool arrives.” – Chapter 2
It’s difficult to capture here what Tyson’s memoir meant to me at this very specific moment in my own life as I’m in the midst of uncovering a deep familial connection to San Francisco and the California coast. Because of this, I went into my reading of WHERE THE WAVES TURN BACK trying to be cognizant of my bias and hoping to enjoy the story divorced from my own experiences—and luckily, that was easy.
Tyson’s writing is clear, wryly funny, and often arrestingly beautiful by way of his reflections on life and everything in between. If you know what coastal fog feels like, his description of it feels like teleportation—and if you don’t, you’ll soon understand. I’m so grateful Tyson shared his mother’s memory and took us along with him in her honor.
Average at best. I didn't glean any pearls of wisdom from it, as I had hoped to. I don't think the author really grew all that much either. I think he wanted to gain some kind of enlightenment, but in my opinion, it was never achieved. That's okay, I've had those kind of failed soul searching trips myself, I just didn't feel the need to write a book about it.
The trip itself, composed largely of walking next to busy roads, was on the boring side. The few times when it could have gotten interesting, the author didn't pursue it. For example, a woman with two mountain bikes in her car stopped and asked him to go mountain biking with her. He declined and continued walking up the road. I thought the potential for an interesting interaction was wasted. There were so many questions I wanted to ask that woman.
The end result to me was a long, boring walk where little was gained in the end. I sympathize with the author's plight, having lost his mother, but I don't think his walk warranted a book.
This book recounts Tyson’s 40-day trek to San Fran in the wake of his mother’s death. Along the way, he struggles with how to best approach this new season of life. There is more to existence than just waiting for the sufferings to end; to avoid suffering is to avoid living. However, how can one keep tragedy from obscuring all the beauty in this world? So many are hurt by their experiences and then stay in a constant state of despair as “death waits in the alley with a cigarette.”
Perhaps an answer to the troubles of being can be found in the renouncement of a comfortable life. Reality is meant to be constantly questioned. What if trouble, sorrow, and suffering are the access points to victory? Is heartbreak where we see God? There are so many why’s posed about suffering, but what if we were to ask where God is found in each of our troubles? All of our beliefs lead us to become someone; who do we want to become? One paralyzed by the darkness? Or someone who finds peace and strength while occupying the in-between?