Why yes, that is a vacuum cleaner in my pannier.

Yesterday my friend said to me, "Are you ok then? I worry about you." 

It dawned on me that I've created this victim persona of myself with her. That identity does not give me comfort. I never dreamed my ex-husband would do the things he has done, but that is not me. I am not living the prescribed life that my family or former friends would like for me, but I am me. I am not a victim. I am not what has happened to me. 

Alertness set in on me early this morning, my whole body filled with inspiration. Yesterday's sickness and fever linger, and it is 26 degrees. I have to get in to the office to remove a mural I painted a few weeks back. My thoughts grappled with each other: drive or bike this morning? 

I remembered a movie, 180 deg South. I lusted after the responsibility-free life of these climbers. These guys did everything to climb, surf, and sail. They gave up the things I define as success on a hunt for a thrill. Hey self: slow down there, Judgy McJudgerstein. They aren't less than human any more than you are or anybody is. Hell, they have a movie. This is their path. What's yours?

"If you set out on a journey to affect some kind of physical to spiritual gate and you compromise the process along the way, and you’re an asshole when you start then you’ll be an asshole when you finish” ~180 deg South

This is how I find myself packing a vacuum cleaner into pannier bags and donning the ski gear intended for yesterday's non-trip to Wintergreen mountain. It isn't because a sickness happened to me, but because the backside of pain is experience. Experience is life, and life is beautiful.

In no particular order I present to you, dear Universe, my goals:

• Ride the divide from Banff to Fort Collins
• Lose sight of shore for long enough that it becomes a new normal
• Build a product and company that serves the greater good
• Raise up some childrens (ya'll)
• Keeping working a handstand until it breaks my bones

Gifts

For a variety of reasons, I found myself walking to and from the school a lot today. Part of my story is my son. He is wonderful and challenging. He is as hot as the sun. He's mesmerizing with his brains and beauty, but he can't always keep his emotions between the lines. Bit like his mama.

This morning was a hard one, but then on the way home he found a butterfly. It had died where it flew, and he spotted it perfectly in tact. His brother protected it until we got home. His sister kept the dog from eating it.

Did I mention he had poetry homework? Here is what he wrote...

I am a smart boy who like sharks

I wonder what life will be like for our descendants who will live thousands of years from now

I hear my fan at night

I see a good life ahead with lots of mistakes and successes

I want to have an impact on those around me

I am a smart boy who likes sharks

I pretend that I am well known and revered in the world

I feel powerless when I hear about loss

I touch other people’s lives when I do something for charity

I worry that life will pass me by without me doing anything

I cry when I hear about how much poverty there is in the world

I am a smart boy who likes sharks

I understand that I can’t do something for everything that happens in the world

I say that I can do almost anything if I put my mind to it

I dream that there were a decent life for everybody

I try to make an impact on my peers

I hope that life will get better for everybody

I am a smart boy who likes sharks

The Velveteen Rabbit

{ALERT: this post has nothing to do with bikes, except that bikes are life.}

It takes a long time to wear down the sharp edges, and a lot of courage not to break. I might have broken a bit, and my edges aren't all smooth and soft. The skin horse also says you don't mind if things hurt when your Real. Apparently I'm still a work in progress.

My friend was in the hospital last week. She got really, really sick. I hope she doesn't go burn everything down, because she's Real to me. You can't depend on everyone or everything, but I can depend on her.