A Couple Of Links On Living Your Dream

Sky's the limit

Information from the social networks washes over me daily. Sometimes these messages meld to inspire.

Yesterday a friend linked to The Architecture of a Lifelong Dream by Urban Samurai. He encourages people to find their passion by exploring their interests. You are never too young or too old. If your lifelong dream is to sit on the couch and watch tv, then he says go for it. But if not, what are you doing to make your dream a reality? What’s stopping you? The post has stayed with me since I read it.

If you can’t say there are things you are truly passionate about, you really need to start expanding your reach. Put yourself out into spaces and places that you’ve never been. Expand your mind and your experiences. Passions will start to develop. Staying in the same stagnant pool of water won’t get you anything but malaria. Get out and walk around. Go see things you’ve never seen. Experience things you’ve never experienced.

Today another friend posted a video. The short clip is based on a true story. Depressed about the loss of their loved ones and struggling with disease, the men decide to “Let’s ride motorcycles!” Watch it if you have been thinking you are too old while reading my words. After training for six months, they rode those motorcycles on a long trip.

Make today more than another day.

March 22nd, 2011 | Tags: , , , | Category: All My Writing | Leave a comment

Can I Stop the Stumble?

As I’ve mentioned, I fell the first time I tried to ride the motorcycle across the parking lot. When it came time for my riding exam on the course, my nerves were starting to get the best of me. With this article in mind, I stamped my nice, new black leather boots on the parking lot, and kicked it into high gear.

In high school calculus, they gave us an exam to determine our problem solving ability. It did not cover material from the class. We all knew the score did not count. When it was over and our graded papers were coming back, the teacher hesitated next to my desk, holding my paper. He had read about this, but had never seen such a clear example.

I had the first five answers correct, then hit one I couldn’t do, which led to the next few wrong. Then I found one that was easy and had success on the next few, until I found one I didn’t know again. Without exception, the results were groupings of right and wrong answers. With concern on his face, my teacher advised me to be aware of this tendency to get rattled by wrong answers.

He had put a weight around my neck with no hope of removing it. All I could think about was all those wrong answers.

I call this my “stumble”. The “stumble” occurs when the results don’t matter, the outcome is celebrated, and the situation is beyond my control. These days, I still grapple with it. I “stumble” and can’t seem to get my balance for a while afterwards.

Although not always as obvious as a black-and-white test on a piece of paper, the stumble surfaces in other ways. Last year I didn’t read the agenda. Just before the meeting started, I discovered I was responsible for more than an hour of it. To add to my grief, I couldn’t find my file. I winged it from memory — but my entire week was put off balance. I felt inadequate for days, as if everything was slipping through my fingers. All my encounters seemed bad.

For the last month, I have been co-hosting an internet radio show about local happenings. During two of the shows my connection filled with static and caused problems. Each time I could dial back in to the show without a problem, but I wasn’t at my best. Feeling frustrated and filled with mistakes, I didn’t perform well. After each show, it takes me days to regain my footing.

I always notice people who can just shrug things off with a “no big deal” attitude. How do they do that? How do you not care that you made a mistake?

In my high school calculus test, I immediately lost confidence, thinking that I wasn’t as smart as the other kids. This is really what magnified and set off my failure. During the no-agenda meeting, I knew I was the best person to organize the event but I wasn’t perfect. Although I had confidence, it didn’t go exactly right. Is it a loss of confidence or a desire for perfectionism that causes me to stumble?

Educators are aware of this effect. I must not be the only one who struggles with it. How does a person recover from the little calamities in life? Distance from the incident often helps, but when it’s happening you don’t have any distance. The effects can be stopped with reason over time, but in order for me to function well, there needs to be an immediate fix. The goal is to let things slide and not feel dreadful. Being aware of the stumble problem helps, but how do we run upright during the short sprints and keep going?

We won’t make changes until we fail and know that we have something to change. Change takes commitment, dedication, and energy. In this case, all three need to occur on the spot. Lately I have been mentally forcing myself to put the problem away, as if in a box, but often I still don’t perform well because I feel bad. Feelings are not as easy to turn off and they only get worse in that box.

So I’ve decided I need to picture myself in boots, with Nancy Sinatra singing “These Boots Are Made For Walking.” I mentally put my foot down and try to shrug it off. Since it’s all in my head, I might as well have the luxury of sturdy, stylish boots. Hopefully, this will speed up time and help me feel better. Whether it works or not, the important part is recognizing the situation and finding a personal way to improve.

Step by step.

November 21st, 2008 | Tags: , , | Category: All My Writing | Leave a comment

On Wheels


At the end, only 7 of the 12 in my Motorcycle Safety Class actually walked away with their licenses. I was one. It wasn’t easy.

We all aced the written test. I was thanked for everyone getting one particular question correct due to my overly-thorough presentation. Granted, I misunderstood and wrote out the answers to all 126 (I only remember because it’s my birthday 1-26!) questions in the study guide. Now when I ride these facts sometimes pop up in my mind giving me some confidence, so it’s not necessarily an awful mistake.

During the class, I didn’t think I was doing all that well. I’m sloppy. I push everything as far as it will go. I was going too fast.

Added to all of these naturally-wrong instincts was the fact that I fell over with the bike the first time we had to ride it in a straight line. The bike fell on my leg – bad. My elbow was bleeding and took a few bandaids. My fingers weren’t working because of a bicycle accident two weeks earlier. If I doubted how serious this excursion was going to be, I found out right away.

After we had to do tight turns, the instructor gave a speech about how only a few people could really control their bikes at slow speeds. For some reason, he spent the whole speech staring at me. I just figured I must be the worst in the class.

I spent the night after my first day on the range concentrating on every single move we had to make. The last thing I did before leaving the class was ask my instructor why I couldn’t stop. With frustration, he explained that he couldn’t really tell but it was one of two things. All night I thought about how to correct both, just to be on the safe side.

On the second day of range practice, I kept up the speed but had more control. I stopped perfectly and the instructor sent me on to practice other skills.

During the test I aced everything. I was surprised that most people in the class couldn’t do the tight turns. I guess the instructor looked at me because I could handle the bike at slow speeds.

Each step of the process on the range took all of my concentration, strength, and courage. It’s worse on the street with traffic.

September 6th, 2008 | Tags: , | Category: All My Writing | Leave a comment

Motorcycle Moments

“Don’t you think that’s dangerous?” my friend asked with a slight frown. Last week I excitedly signed up to take the Basic Riders Course required for a motorcycle license. Friends’ comments vary from cool to crazy, but this decision has been years in the making and it’s mine.

Since my dad always looked out for his little girl, he adamantly forbade me to get on the back of a bike. He had good reason to discourage motorcycles when the drivers were young and irresponsible. One afternoon when I was standing in my uncle’s barnyard in Upstate New York, one of the guys took the turn onto the bridge too fast. The motorcycle made it, but he didn’t. As I watched, his right leg was broken back in an unnatural position. The ambulance took forever while he screamed in pain then grew silent. We thought we were losing him until they started to cut off his jeans. He yelled, “I don’t have on any underwear!” His worry over this detail assured us that he was going to be fine. Dad’s warnings were justified.

Years later as an adult, my dad’s rule was very much on my mind when my husband asked me to ride. We were only dating back then, but I trusted him and jumped on the back of a bike. He would take me out over the mountains in rural Pennsylvania. Soaring over the hills with my arms around him was the most exhilarating feeling. I never wanted to let go.

After we had our first child, my husband took possession of one of his family’s bikes. With an authoritative attitude, I deemed the Washington, DC area too dangerous. As parents, it would be irresponsible for the both of us to get on a motorcycle. No need for my father’s warnings, my own apprehensions were taking precedent. My husband suggested I get a license. He rightly surmised that if I was on my own bike, I would agree to ride. Although an enticing idea, I was soon pregnant with our second son and it didn’t happen.

Last year I signed up for the motorcycle course but had to cancel because my husband took a different year-long work detail and we had to go away that week. Fighting a strong feeling that this was the end of it, I promised myself that in a year I would take the course. Now I’m signed up four months in advance, waiting for my reward.

The little voice in my head is very much warning me to be careful. Even so, there’s no doubt that my time to hit the road on two wheels is finally arriving, my very own motorcycle moment.

May 9th, 2008 | Tags: , | Category: All My Writing | 3 comments