I can't believe I'm going to put this out there, but when I was learning to ride I really could have used some stories like this from experienced riders, so here goes...
The punchline: I dropped my bike, on the street, at a stoplight.
Phew. Bandaid ripped off. Ouch. Here's what happened...
Tuesday morning, a totally normal dark and rainy Oregon morning, I'm on my way to work. I'm at a stoplight not far from home. The light turns green, and without thinking, I put my feet on the pegs, roll on the gas, let out the clutch, like I have well over a million times before, and.... The bike dies. Before I even know what is happening, the bike is falling, and I can't get a foot on the ground to stop it before it was past the point of no return. So, we fall, and I am glad I'd just purchased D3O hip armor for my pants. I stand up, pick up my bike (thank goodness I can do that, because while it was AWFUL that there were other cars watching this, not a one even put their car in park to try to help) hop on, turn the bike on, and this time, carefully roll on the gas, let out the clutch, and bam. The bike dies again. (I'm ready this time, it doesn't fall over.) I take a moment to be thoroughly perplexed, look at the mileage on my odometer, and decide that while my odometer says I have 30 miles to ride before reserve, perhaps there was an oops with that in the not too distant past, put the bike on reserve, again start it, and carefully roll on the gas and let out the clutch, and I am off. For about 3 feet, because the light is red again.
Now, as a new rider, three years ago, it wasn't unusual for me to kill my ninja at a stoplight, but this has not happened for as long as I can remember. So, for the rest of my ride, even though there was no way most of the rest of the Portland could have seen this happen, I'm hanging my head in embarrassment about what happened. Walk of Shame comes up on my playlist, and I think yes, I'm doing the ride of shame.
As an update, the gas is behaving normally, no leaks in the fuel system, and the bike is running great, so I just have to assume something messed with odometer setting while we were working on the bike last weekend.
So, internet, you decide, do I lose my badass biker card?
Friday, October 21, 2016
Saturday, October 1, 2016
Be where your feet are....
Sometimes, maybe even usually, I learn much more from my clients than I feel they learn from me. This week, someone shared a quote "Be where your feet are." Sometimes things take up residence in my mind, and replay in many situations.
There is something so concrete about being where your feet are, while my mind wants to wander to where my feet were, or where they will be tomorrow. This is something I have fallen in love with in motorcycling; letting your mind wander can lead to some very scary situations, so my attention is consistently brought back to the present.
Yet, as humans with full and varied lives, we have to plan for our future, and the past sometimes does continue to affect us. Would it be healthy to only be where my feet are, all the time? I spend a lot of time listening to adventure rider radio, hearing people who let go of everything, and just ride, for a period of time. My hubby and I have done this, but only for a couple weeks at a time, so by the time we really let go, it's almost time to start thinking about coming back. It sounds like some people eventually can live the reality of being where their feet are, day in and day out. "I'm out of money, I'll stay here until I get some, and then move on." Others realize as their finances dwindle or checkboxes are marked from their goal list, they are drawing closer and closer to the end of an adventure, a way of living, their current life. They must contemplate what is next for them.
How can you know what is right for you, when you have only lived one way? Planning for the next goal, the next dream, the next adventure? So much of my life was spent thinking about my future. Motorcycling gives me a reprieve; just be where my feet are. Counseling does the same thing; it is a rare moment that in a counseling session my mind will wander; I am usually 100% focused, both on the detail of what I am being told, holding the memories of stories from the past, holding the goals the person has stated for their future, and holding the space to allow people to reweave their lives into a tapestry they can love. In grad school, I had a teacher that told us we can get swept up in our clients story, but it is our job as therapists to be the one in the room with at least one toe on the ground. That groundedness, that space, is something I give willingly and naturally to others. But, with a life, house, bills, kids, dog, how can I just *be* right now?
This brings me to a common concept I work with clients on, that holds very true for me. It is about intentionality and choice. Perhaps we can live a full and happy life by balancing the present with the future (and even the past) if we are intentional about where our thoughts are in the moment. When I find myself ruminating about something that has happened, I remind myself that I am not being where my feet are, and that is ok. That past has taught me something for who I am today. When I am caught up daydreaming about our next adventure, I let myself know that too is ok. I am choosing to use this time thinking about my future. And, when I find that my lack of presence is affecting my relationships or wellbeing, I can remind myself to bring my attention to my feet; because that is the foundation for the rest of me, in this present moment.
Perhaps my future will include more days where I am simply existing where my feet are, because I am less tied to things that pull my attention into the future. Perhaps my future includes extended motorcycle travel, in which I wake up, throw a leg over the bike, and say "I wonder where my feet will take me today?" In which I will stay present, explore side roads, smell flowers, eat local food, talk to local people, and let them tell me the best direction to point my feet. But meanwhile, I will enjoy the stories of others living that life, and appreciate where my feet are today, snuggled up under a soft and adoring puppy. With friends and family and chores and work that I adore completely. And daydreams of places far and near that I wish to explore.
Choose to be where your feet are, or not. But choose.
There is something so concrete about being where your feet are, while my mind wants to wander to where my feet were, or where they will be tomorrow. This is something I have fallen in love with in motorcycling; letting your mind wander can lead to some very scary situations, so my attention is consistently brought back to the present.
Yet, as humans with full and varied lives, we have to plan for our future, and the past sometimes does continue to affect us. Would it be healthy to only be where my feet are, all the time? I spend a lot of time listening to adventure rider radio, hearing people who let go of everything, and just ride, for a period of time. My hubby and I have done this, but only for a couple weeks at a time, so by the time we really let go, it's almost time to start thinking about coming back. It sounds like some people eventually can live the reality of being where their feet are, day in and day out. "I'm out of money, I'll stay here until I get some, and then move on." Others realize as their finances dwindle or checkboxes are marked from their goal list, they are drawing closer and closer to the end of an adventure, a way of living, their current life. They must contemplate what is next for them.
How can you know what is right for you, when you have only lived one way? Planning for the next goal, the next dream, the next adventure? So much of my life was spent thinking about my future. Motorcycling gives me a reprieve; just be where my feet are. Counseling does the same thing; it is a rare moment that in a counseling session my mind will wander; I am usually 100% focused, both on the detail of what I am being told, holding the memories of stories from the past, holding the goals the person has stated for their future, and holding the space to allow people to reweave their lives into a tapestry they can love. In grad school, I had a teacher that told us we can get swept up in our clients story, but it is our job as therapists to be the one in the room with at least one toe on the ground. That groundedness, that space, is something I give willingly and naturally to others. But, with a life, house, bills, kids, dog, how can I just *be* right now?
This brings me to a common concept I work with clients on, that holds very true for me. It is about intentionality and choice. Perhaps we can live a full and happy life by balancing the present with the future (and even the past) if we are intentional about where our thoughts are in the moment. When I find myself ruminating about something that has happened, I remind myself that I am not being where my feet are, and that is ok. That past has taught me something for who I am today. When I am caught up daydreaming about our next adventure, I let myself know that too is ok. I am choosing to use this time thinking about my future. And, when I find that my lack of presence is affecting my relationships or wellbeing, I can remind myself to bring my attention to my feet; because that is the foundation for the rest of me, in this present moment.
Perhaps my future will include more days where I am simply existing where my feet are, because I am less tied to things that pull my attention into the future. Perhaps my future includes extended motorcycle travel, in which I wake up, throw a leg over the bike, and say "I wonder where my feet will take me today?" In which I will stay present, explore side roads, smell flowers, eat local food, talk to local people, and let them tell me the best direction to point my feet. But meanwhile, I will enjoy the stories of others living that life, and appreciate where my feet are today, snuggled up under a soft and adoring puppy. With friends and family and chores and work that I adore completely. And daydreams of places far and near that I wish to explore.
Choose to be where your feet are, or not. But choose.
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