Discovery

When H decided to walk, he knew how and took careful precautions and went for the right incentives. He liked to know what was coming, and was a fan of patterns and routines. We would play on the riding toys in the driveway for hours. So many hours, that he was riding two wheels by the age of three. As a teenager, he's rides with a mountain bike team and gets himself to and from school. Same route everyday. He comes home through a park and then down the greenway a short distance. 

Sara called me. Who's Sara? I don't actually know, because we had never met before this call. I was getting on the bike headed for home to pick up my kids. Except she seem to be talking about my kids... 

[Incoming call] Hi yes, I'm Susan. My son? Which one? Who is this again? What did you say? Is he hurt? Can I talk to him? {frantically grabbing coworker to drive me to my child} What hospital are they taking him to? Can you take a picture of his bike so I can know how severe his injuries might be? Thank you Sara, I love you so much right now. I'm coming. Oh hi, yes, I'm his mom. Are you there? Can you hear me? No, he doesn't have any allergies. His name, diagnosis, current meds, yes. Tell him I love him. Thank you. I'll go to the hospital then. 

[text] It's important. Call me immediately.

[Outgoing call] What are you doing right now? Are you parked? There's been an accident, it's H. He was riding his bike home from school. They don't know the extent of his injuries, they're taking him to the hospital. Can you get there? I'm going to get R&T now and I'll meet you there. Where else would I take them? Once they hear he's in the hospital, they're going to want to get there. Yes, we'll figure out. I'll call your dad.

[Incoming call] Hey baby, are you ok? Yes, get in the ambulance with him. Hold his hand. {screams in the background that make me wince} It's ok, I'm coming as fast as I can. Do you want to wait there or go back to the school? {dropping phone sounds and then a new voice} Yes, I'm his mom. I'm coming there right now, about 10 minutes out. Yes, they're brothers, they're my sons. I'm coming as fast I can. 

[Incoming call] Hey sweet girl. Yes, I'm going to pick you up. Listen, something's happened. As soon as I get to the school, be ready. We have to move quickly.

[Outgoing call] Got a sec? I need a favor. Oh, you're driving. Can you pull over? Yea, I know it makes you nervous. Don't worry, I'll wait. Ok, Holden was in an accident. I'm on my way to the hospital, but I need to get R&T first. Can you meet their dad there? I understand you're upset. We are about to walk into a very tense situation and I need you to have a calm head. Yes, you can vent. You didn't hurt my feelings. Yes, meet me at the hospital and we'll figure it out. 

x

[at the scene] Hi, yes, I'm Susan. Can you give me one second and we can finish? {wrap my arms around my second son and feel the relief of a healthy, strong, breathing boy with a brave face} Ok, so where is the van now? Who is Sara? Were there others? Are there skid marks? How fast was she going? Why wouldn't she have stopped then? {wrestling with the bike rack} Here, it goes like this. Oh you have this rack too? Yea we love it. So he usually comes down this greenway path, and then crosses to the curb relief on the other side.  What van was it? Did she brake at all before she hit my son? So you didn't cite her? I need to get to the hospital, can I have the information on the report? Thank you.

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

In the Quiet in the Dark

I have a confession. Today I rode my bike for the second time in many months. Yes. Only two times in maybe three or four months, and one was last week. Life has thrown me some fast balls and some curve balls, and I'm holding on to keep up with all of the action. I made it - the miles are mine again.

Last week I found myself scared on the way home. I was well-dressed for the weather, and lit up like a rolling Christmas tree with all my lights. I didn't understand my own reaction, except to say we are close to the winter solstice and light is scarce. I was easily startled. Maybe it was because the shadows on a trail move faster than you expect when rolling through the dark.

I did a repeat tonight to test myself. My phone blared music while I bounded through miles of greenway in the night. About the time Bruce Springsteen came on, I caught my groove. The song reminded me of the nights in high school when we would drive out to the swamp with the windows down to listen to the croak of the alligators.

Can't wait for daylight savings to end!

Rising Above

This is such a happy sight for me. Not because it is a happy picture, but because I'm not involved in it. My detachment from the feeling of trapped inside a vehicle was glorious as I biked across the bridge. 

Shadows

I love how the road lights up with glitter at certain times of day. It's also pretty amazing the things you can make on your cell phone.

First day of spring was a good one!

Cause I'm #reflective like that

Picked up a great new reflective Sugoi jacket in the REI sale. Very happy about this.

Can we take a minute to enjoy that I took my morning conference call from the sunny side of this tree?

The timing wasn't quite going to work for me, so I made sure to charge my phone. To my mind, this moment was a marvel. I was on the phone with Atlanta, New York, and India from the sunny side of this tree.

I am someone's Mom

I've written a lot about the aggression I experience from people who drive cars. When we are sitting in a cafe at breakfast, it is a way less hostile exchange. Less dangerous. All around, just a better time.

I had this idea that if I wore a jersey with the word "MOM" on the back, maybe people driving the cars around me would be less... awful? nasty? dangerous?

I pay taxes and I have a job. I'm a mom and I volunteer. I shouldn't have to claim my place in society just to have this space of road. I have to get tow work. I would otherwise be using this same space with a car.

And then Rachel, one of my most beloved soul sisters, made me this.

http://ift.tt/20fitKw

Street Cleaner!

The ride home was muddy. Roads were grimy and all that is now all over me. This is all fine until I approach this truck running sprinklers on the front, back and sides of his truck. Thankfully, traffic picked up both directions. I'm not typically thankful for cars.