golden rules: number three

This summer has been an enigma of hazy ambitions restrained by un-yielding realities. It began with three clear goals set forth with leather clad vigor. I would go for my motorcycle license, I would get a small starter bike, I would expand my circle of motoriding friends riding 2up with them. In June, I failed the BRC with a spectacular scar and incredulous story from the muffler burn. Now that I'm once again convinced of my motorcycle potential, I am looking at small bikes to learn on and even acquired the "Ride Like a Pro" DVD to give it the 110% that it may take to become an accomplished lady-driver. In the last goal, I had the pleasure and privilege to ride along with some wonderful guys on some exceptional bikes adding wonderful friends to my short list of people to commune with. But then weather got too wet to ride, injuries took their toll sidelining moto riding, and even work schedules became obstructive for connecting with motodrivers. This is all painfully relevant because our summers are so very short in Vermont. We had excessive rainfall in June into July subtracting 6 weeks from our riding season. We did, however successfully grow weeds bigger than my horses. Looks like next year, I'll be getting a DR trimmer to beat back the understory... the warm weather of August left me housebound as I have sharply limited mobility in warm, muggy weather so I can't safely play with horses, can't even weed flower beds. I can surf the Internet and lust for beautiful motorcycles and the fantasy of driving my own someday. As I could not coordinate rides with my regular buddy, I tried for one or two other outings, only to be underwhelmed by the bike or the person. So then its back to the notion of driving my own. More than a few friends suggested that I get a small off road bike that I can play with at the farm to see if I can or can not achieve competence when I can take my time and figure it out. After all, this is a sport and an art of its own and it will require a learning curve. As I watch the bikers go by my farm on a glorious day, I renewed my commitment to really try this out, at my own pace, on a bike that isn't too heavy if I drop it and without all the breakable bling that street bikes have. If I can master a small bike in my pasture, then I could get a smallish street bike and take the next step. In any case, my kids would "inherit" the dirt bike for their youthful indulgence... having this dream helps to pass the hot, sunny days when I am heavy with frustration at my mobility challenges and begin to sink into blunted anger with my injury-mandated inabilities. The the brain rot becomes detrimental in my life and precious time is lost perserverating on unchangeable facts in my situation. It takes a small success to revive my optimism and perception of what I can do, if only differently, but it is what I can do. I become acutely aware of my window of opportunities and the choices I need to make to maximize the impact. I am more focused now on the journey, the process, the people passionate for their interests. The success is not in obtaining the end goal so much as it is about finding a way around the obstruction, discovering an alternate path that turns out to be more interesting and joy filled than the traditional paradigm. The motorcycle culture is particularly attuned to this as is the horse driving culture. In these environments, the success is in the clever accommodation for my engagement there. It is heartening to be among people who live the life and walk the walk of "what can be done. . ." The natural expectation is not that I will fit the mold, but that a new mold will be made to fit me... I sleep and breathe their boundless enthusiasm for my dreams; it gets me through the hard days and inspires me to try, just try, to live my dreams. Golden rule # 3? You can always make more money but you can never make more time... dream it then live it...
peace ~ ell