I'm okay

I am in process

I experienced my first official accident yesterday. I have had a few run-ins with animals in the past including a couple of dear running into my car, hitting a raccoon, and a very unfortunate incident with a chicken, but I had never collided with another vehicle. Yesterday I was riding up towards the mountain from campus when a car in the oncoming lane turned left in front of me. I always drive my motorcycle under the assumption that I am invisible and everyone is trying to hit me, but the timing of the turn left me no alternatives for escape. I struck the front fender of the car and flew off my bike. 

When I sat up from where I landed in the road I did a quick body scan to see if I was alright. I probably flew 10 or 20 feet and although I could tell I was experiencing an adrenaline dump unlike anything I had experienced before nothing seemed to be broken or bleeding. I think my leg caught the car or my handlebars as I flew off and there is a bruise on my thigh but I think I did a barrel roll across my shoulder as I landed and I am otherwise unscathed. I was wearing a helmet and full leathers but I could not see any scratches or damage to those either. After I got my bike off the road and sat down I then assessed the damage to the bike. I think that given the situation the damage to the bike was as minimal as possible, but it is highly likely that the bike is totaled. 

Unquestionably my good health is the most important outcome to what occurred. (I think I either have the reflexes and agility of a jungle cat as I flew through the air or perhaps a few attending angels helped me down gently) Along with that gratitude for being okay, I also have to recognize that I am already experiencing the mourning process with what happened. I have learned a variety of lessons through that bike over the past year, many of which I have written about here: moving forward, crisis, don't stop the journey, breakdown , breaktime, I like to go fast, fog lights, and heads up.  Those  lessons will stay with me, but I would be untrue to myself if I did not recognize how sad the potential loss makes me. 

Through all of the paperwork, police reports, tow trucks and discussions of what happened last night I have felt relatively calm and grateful to be physically whole. Emotionally it has been messy. I have felt some fear, frustration, gratitude, compassion, and I can also pick out some specific pieces of the grieving process such as moments of depression, anger, denial and bargaining. I can sense at times that I am at trying to rush myself towards acceptance. I want to see the lessons and opportunities that this experience is going to provide without having to go through all of the pain associated with it. It is not something I can rush, dodge, or ignore. 

I am in process. In my grieving, my growth, my pain, my successes and struggles. Surrendering to that process and accepting it is where I can find serenity and peace among all of the messiness. I am okay just where I am. 

Moving forward

I am growing and moving forward

The place where I work is nestled in the beautiful foothills just below a breathtaking stretch of the Rocky Mountains.

On the road I ride to school there is a stoplight on a steep incline. When I first started riding it made me a little nervous when I would run into a red light. To avoid rolling backward I would have to keep the brake on firmly. When the light turned green I would have to accelerate while simultaneously letting off the brake and slowly releasing the clutch. If I did not give it enough gas I would run the risk of stalling, too much and it posed a different set of problems. 

I have found that the process of change feels very much like trying to ride up that hill. If I stop, the natural tendency is to roll backwards and starting back up again can be a little tricky. I know some of the old patterns that are behind me in the rear-view mirror and I am not interested in rolling back to visit those places again. If I am not moving forward I am almost assuredly stuck or at risk of sliding backward. I choose to continue moving forward in my process of growth and change. I fuel that movement through self care, nurturing my authentic self, daily practices that foster my change processes and by looking towards where I want to be. 

Staying awake

I find meaning and gain wisdom 

from the difficult experiences of my life

I have heard a catchy song on the radio lately by Avicii called Wake me Up. The chorus is what sticks out to me the most, "wake me up when it's all over, when I'm wiser and I'm older. All this time I was finding myself and I didn't know I was lost."

How nice would that be? More than once during an uncomfortable experience in my life I have wished I could just check out emotionally. My instinct has been to dodge pain and impatiently wait for it to pass. I think, "just let me go to sleep and when I wake up hopefully this will all be behind me."

When I was in middle school I remember learning about osmosis. I would joke that I was going to sleep with my books under my pillow so I could just learn by osmosis as I slept. It is no more likely that I can avoid the difficult experiences of my life and expect to be wiser just because time has passed, than it is to expect myself to understand calculus if I put my head down on the textbook and fall asleep. 

Whatever wisdom I have is earned. The lessons that can come from difficult experiences are often hard to see in the moment, but if I am unwilling to let myself fully experience what is happening I am likely to miss them completely. Wisdom comes from the hard work of facing my challenges and learning from them. Pain and discomfort can teach me, but if I try to avoid them the lesson is lost. Today I will be fully present in all of my experiences so that I may glean meaning and wisdom from them. 

Taking down walls

I choose vulnerability and connection

The great paradox of all relationships is between the need for connection and the desire for self-protection. There have been moments when I have tried to have them both, but I have come to accept it is impossible. 

The walls I put up to keep myself safe from the harm others can cause, are the same that also keep me trapped and isolated.  That isolation turns to depression and loneliness. I might try to convince myself that if I trust no one I will never be hurt. No matter how much I may try to deny it, I am hard-wired for connection. Relationships bring purpose and meaning to my life and are important in my process of growth.

It takes vulnerability to connect. To let myself be known completely (even the shadowy and broken parts.) It causes me anxiety and fear. I fear that I will be rejected, that I am not good enough, and that I may not be worthy of being loved. Can I trust someone else to meet my needs? 

The paradox is inescapable, but I get to choose. I choose to face the fears with courage. I choose vulnerability in the hope of creating the healthy connections I need in my life.

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1.2 miles of crisis

I am practicing daily crisis prevention

Grand Tetons - July, 2013 canffirmations.blogspot.com

I ride a Yamaha Warrior 1700 and it is 600lbs of pure bliss.

Even though I have a tendency to ride it like I stole it, the gas mileage is efficient and still well beyond that of my 4 wheeled vehicle. I use it as my primary mode of transportation and although the mpg is excellent the tank only holds 3.5 gallons. I do not have a gas gauge so when the low fuel indicator light turns on I know it only has roughly 1/2 gallon left. 

I was heading to a meeting and was running a bit behind when I noticed my fuel light turn on. I did not have time to stop so I rode on. After the meeting was done I got back on the bike and I did not feel like stopping immediately for gas so I got on the freeway and headed for home. I was in a hurry so I skipped the first two exits with gas stations because I knew the next one was just a few miles away and had a station right off the freeway.

I didn't make it...

Just after I passed the sign indicating it was 3/4 of a mile to the exit my engine cut out. It wasn't a sputter or a gentle reminder I was about to run out, it was empty. The bike quickly coasted to a stop as I pulled into the emergency lane. I had no more rationalizations or denial left that had been spinning in my head that I wouldn't run out of gas. I considered briefly calling someone but I knew it would take at least 30mins for them to reach me and frankly I was too embarrassed to do it. 

I put the bike in neutral and started to push. I figured it couldn't be more than a half mile to the gas station and I could use the exercise? Those 600 lbs. of bliss were much more difficult to move uphill, manually, with a helmet, and in full riding leathers. I eventually made it with the assistance of a couple of cars who put hazards on and bracketed me as I rolled it through a few intersections after the freeway off-ramp. I finally arrived at the gas station exhausted, covered in sweat, out of breath, bruised and a little bloody from scraping my legs against the foot-pegs. When I went back the next day and measured the distance it was 1.2 miles.

I have a really good idea now of how far I can go once the fuel light goes on but it took a crisis to learn where that limit was. I recognize that some of the crises I experience in my life are preventable. When I ignore my own basic self care, procrastinate little things that start to pile up, or neglect emotional expression, I suddenly find myself in a variety of mini-crises that steal my time, energy, and focus.

Instead of letting things go until I am forced to deal with the situation, I will practice daily the things needed to prevent letting my life slip into crisis mode.