the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
two kinds of riders ~ June 5, 2002 - 8:30 p.m. they have a saying about people who ride motorcycles: there are two kinds of riders-- those who have laid it down, and those who haven't yet. day before yesterday, james laid it down. he's going to be okay. he was lucky in a whole lot of ways. he didn't land on his back, or his head. he landed on his left leg, which is very broken, shattered in places. they had to reconstruct his femur with pins and screws and metal rods-- airport-metal-detector fun. hell of a way to start the summer. but he's going to be okay, and I'm just glad it wasn't worse. it so easily could have been. intense, to get that news. keri e-mailed me, and later pat called to make sure I'd heard. he wrecked on the bike I learned on, the nighthawk I just gave back to him a week ago. I don't know how to describe the emotional processes I went through yesterday. part of it was a certain sense of there but for the grace of god... especially since it seems like anyone I know who's been riding for any real length of time has been in an accident of some magnitude. two kinds of riders-- those who have laid it down, and those who haven't yet. and the nighthawk. which I'd been riding just a week before. which is totalled now. and part of it was imagining this person who I once loved, shared deep things and dreams with-- and with whom, it's true, I had such a torturous relationship with-- being flung onto the roadway, being broken. too easy to imagine that feeling, that millisecond of oh fuck as you realize that this is really happening in the bare moment before your body breaks on impact. it's too easy to imagine that one day it will be me. the spectre of death is always just beyond your peripheral vision when you ride. and it's true, that that's part of what makes it so glorious. flying down the road, you are totally and completely alive, and you know just how fragile and precious it is. I do, anyway. and I'm not a crazy rider. more careful than most. but I always ride knowing that someday it could be me. two kinds of riders... I called him yesterday, but we only spoke briefly. he was groggy and doped up and in a lot of pain. still waiting on the surgery. then, after dinner last night I was doing dining room clean-up, and I dropped some butter on the floor, and it just pushed me over the edge. rajani saw me standing frozen, with my hand pressed to my forehead, tears welling up in my eyes, and asked what she could do. so I asked for a hug, and got a beautiful one, and I cried a little and told her about my day and how low-energy I'd been and how big everything was feeling. and then I was fine. back to center. I just needed to release it. and I hadn't even realized until that moment how emotional my day had been. I wondered how it would feel to get back on my bike after all that. and you know what? it felt great. I rode all day today, and it was glorious. sunshine and breezes flowing through the vents in my gear, and just loving it, loving life. I know it's dangerous, I know I could get hurt or killed or wind up a vegetable. yes, it's worth the risk. to me. maybe the day I get in my own wreck, I'll change my mind. but for now, I wouldn't give this up for anything. which is something james is facing down. I called him again today, and we talked for a long time. a really good conversation. the accident has put a strain on his relationship, and he's potentially facing a hard choice: riding motorcycles or being with his girlfriend. I just can't put her through that again, he said. and that brought up a little bit of stuff for me around the times he's put me through the terror of thinking that he's dead or dying. and I found the words to tell him about that stuff without any hostility or craziness. just, here it is. and we talked about how he's growing. and it was good, really good. it's hard to imagine him giving it up, knowing how much he loves it. thinking about the way the energy in our conversation picked up after he asked me how I'm liking my bike and we started talking about that. but at the same time, I know how much this relationship means to him. it's a choice that I'm glad I'm not facing. it was so good to really talk to him. without hostility, without craziness. just really talking. he told me how things are really good in his relationship-- but how sometimes they're not. how he still gets into that stuck place that made our relationship such a nightmare. but he's working on it, he's not letting himself stay in that place, and just hearing him sound so clear about things gives me hope. who knows, maybe this accident will be one of those life-transforming events. maybe he will find real happiness in the end. I wish that for him. and me? I'm happy. just so. life is precious.
(((rings))) |