Bike Love
Next on my topic list is what I called “Bike Love, of a different sort.”
In an old post, the one about MeMeMe (stop it, I know they’re all about me. I am kind of a big deal) I listed motorcycles as being something I feared. That was left over from another time and another chapter but was a knee-jerk reaction just the same.
Then I met an amazing someone who made me feel safe, on the back of a bike, and I realized it wasn’t the machine I was afraid of. It was the giving up control and trusting the person driving to help me feel comfortable and safe and not forgetting that I was on the back, holding on.
And it hit me; "IT", the bike, is a metaphor for a relationship, if I’ve ever heard one.
I am no expert in that department. But the things I’ve learned and what my heart tells me are important to a successful partnership are very similar to what I’ve been given glimpses of while on the bike with the boy I call My Favorite:
It should be fun. Like playing in the sunshine, wind in my hair, grinning with bugs in my teeth, fun.
The destination should not be important. But the time it takes to get there should always seem just a little too short.
It should be comfortable for a long ride and feel solid underneath when the trip is longer or harder than first planned.
It should be ridden, and not left to get dusty in the garage. I feel a “take your breath away” kind of freedom that must be the secret that all those Harley riders keep in their pockets. I get it now. If it’s something that makes me happy, I will find a way to make time for it.
That it is necessary to ride solo sometimes. There is a lightness that comes with an unscheduled ride and when the bike allows an escape, away from stress and life, it should feel good to return home and know you’ve been missed.
And when riding on the back, I should feel safe. It’s a vulnerable position to be in, to be sure. Believing that it's okay to let go and completely trust someone who won’t forget I’m back there. To be wanted there.
Because that's me... with the helmet hair, grinning like mad but still a little scared sometimes.
I have learned not to worry about love; but to honor its coming with all my heart.
-Alice Walker
US novelist (1944 - )
In an old post, the one about MeMeMe (stop it, I know they’re all about me. I am kind of a big deal) I listed motorcycles as being something I feared. That was left over from another time and another chapter but was a knee-jerk reaction just the same.
Then I met an amazing someone who made me feel safe, on the back of a bike, and I realized it wasn’t the machine I was afraid of. It was the giving up control and trusting the person driving to help me feel comfortable and safe and not forgetting that I was on the back, holding on.
And it hit me; "IT", the bike, is a metaphor for a relationship, if I’ve ever heard one.
I am no expert in that department. But the things I’ve learned and what my heart tells me are important to a successful partnership are very similar to what I’ve been given glimpses of while on the bike with the boy I call My Favorite:
It should be fun. Like playing in the sunshine, wind in my hair, grinning with bugs in my teeth, fun.
The destination should not be important. But the time it takes to get there should always seem just a little too short.
It should be comfortable for a long ride and feel solid underneath when the trip is longer or harder than first planned.
It should be ridden, and not left to get dusty in the garage. I feel a “take your breath away” kind of freedom that must be the secret that all those Harley riders keep in their pockets. I get it now. If it’s something that makes me happy, I will find a way to make time for it.
That it is necessary to ride solo sometimes. There is a lightness that comes with an unscheduled ride and when the bike allows an escape, away from stress and life, it should feel good to return home and know you’ve been missed.
And when riding on the back, I should feel safe. It’s a vulnerable position to be in, to be sure. Believing that it's okay to let go and completely trust someone who won’t forget I’m back there. To be wanted there.
Because that's me... with the helmet hair, grinning like mad but still a little scared sometimes.
I have learned not to worry about love; but to honor its coming with all my heart.
-Alice Walker
US novelist (1944 - )
Labels: bike love, lurve at large, um...I need an editor
posted by mimikatemom at
11:47 AM
2 Comments:
Man, you can go deep, can't you. Well done!
I see you emerging... I am in awe.
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