. . . to release your inhibitions.
I had such a wonderful ride recently. To me, freedom is riding my motorcycle—moving, pushing the wind and forcing it to accept the fact that I am going forward, despite how much it resists. And not just pushing the wind, but also pushing myself: correcting, perfecting, adapting to the road surface, literally dancing with seven hundred pounds of metal through twists and corners. I actually talk to my machine, and she talks back. I ask her to lean with me around the first corner, and she responds, then lets me set us up for the next one, it becomes a dance on the asphalt, graceful and effortless.
So many things go through my mind when I ride. I am always watching, always looking for others on the road, anticipating their every move. I ride often with friends and I will watch their machines, glance at every nut and bolt on their bikes and picture in my mind that they are tightened and safe. Then I “see” the road ahead for myself two, three, sometimes four corners ahead. I plan my steps. Where am I going to be for the next corner? Will I waltz or tango around it?
Every day we plan our lives, our days, our moments. It starts as soon as we wake—before we even get up, we subconsciously “see” ourselves walking down the hall to put on the coffee and feed our furry friends that own our homes and allow us to stay with them. Then off to the shower, to wake up and sharpen our focus. Naturally this process is habitual. We do the same things the same way, and over time, we lose our desire to create, to alter our path just a little. The freedom I experience on my motorcycle is something I try to replicate in my day-to-day living. Sometimes I simply take a different route somewhere, or shower first then make coffee, or try to convince Levi (my dog) to make me some toast for a change (which has not happened yet, nor will it anytime soon—he’s such a stubborn little guy).
You don’t need to push the wind to feel freedom, but I believe you need to know that the wind is there. At the very least, you need to close your eyes and feel the wind on your face, to receive and share some hugs or smiles, and to remember that you are alive on a physical level, not just a digital one. Go for a walk today, maybe at lunchtime. You don’t have to go anywhere, just walk. Look at others walking around you and wonder where they are going, create ideas and thoughts in your mind, look at the next corner up ahead and wonder what’s around it, choose to dance through that next doorway—waltz, tango, or just sashay. Release your inhibitions even for just an instant, and smile because you can.
Dance through life because you can, to the sound of your own drums,
Find your balance and plan your steps, and adapt to whatever comes.