Neil Peart was the drummer and lyricist of the Canadian rock band Rush. In August 1997 his 19-year-old daughter, Selena, died in a car accident, and about ten months later his wife, Jacqueline, died of cancer. Soon after, he got on his BMW motorcycle at his home in Quebec and rode for some 14 months and around 55,000 miles across North America, north toward Alaska and south into Mexico. Ghost Rider is the record of that ride, told through his travel journal and the letters he wrote to friends on the way. It makes no argument and offers no method; it is a slow, honest account of grief, solitude and motion, and of the small part of himself he tried to keep alive. It ends with him finding love again and marrying the photographer Carrie Nuttall.
Peart did not set out with a plan to heal. He set out to keep moving. He called the man on the motorcycle the ghost rider: someone going through the motions, more ghost than person. What he tried to protect was smaller and quieter, the part of himself he named his little baby soul.
The book teaches no method. Read slowly, though, it shows three things that kept him going: motion that gave each day a shape, solitude balanced by letters to friends, and small daily pleasures that kept the baby soul fed. The log below borrows that shape.