Truly Blessed

I had a great weekend--not to sound too grand, but the kind of weekend that reminds me of all the aspects of my life that I cherish. I spent Saturday, Saturdaying--a satisfying mix of cleaning my house, wandering through the local hardware store selecting herb plants--cilantro, basil, and oregano, and then that night going with friends to see the cutest, most charming lesbian singer-songwriter at a local venue. I hadn't been totally sure of her music when I listened to her on-line, but--oh! her voice!--strong and smooth. The stories she told in between songs, her dimples, her intense gaze as she caught my eye (and that of other audience members) and her wonderful guffawing laugh that filled the small venue. And, then, there was the audience itself--full of lesbians--many couples. Short hair and earrings and masculine femininity. And, I had that moment where I looonged and yearned to be apart of that kind of space again--both the space, where a woman puts her arm around me or her hand on my thigh in a public place--and the space of being part of a larger lesbian community. 

As a perfect capstone for the weekend, I had a really lovely early Sunday morning bike ride. A friend and I met for breakfast and then loaded up our bikes onto my trunk rack and drove out to bike and explore the new bike path I discovered last week. It was a shivery cold morning and a watery sun hung over the horizon. We road along side the sputtering creek and noted not only the leftover dried berries on the leaves, but also the first signs of spring--delicate new, green growth. Over a several mile ride through partial farm country--we also saw sheep, cows and several baby calves, several geese flying low, a robin hopping along the grass. However, more than even the sights of the ride, I was touched by the spirit of the ride.   

I am out of shape and very much a beginner and my friend is a seasoned athlete. So, when we got to the sloping, long and slow upgrade of the hills, I got off to walk and suggested she go ahead up the hill with out me. I felt shy and embarrassed by my need to walk, but I knew it was so early in the season and I had just started riding again, so it was best not to push it. She declined my offer and instead, dismounted to walk with me. We walked. Then, we mounted and road on a flat part of the trail. We rode. Then we dismounted and walked a hill. Then, we rode again. And dismounted again at the next hill. Up and up we snaked. At the top, the very top of several ascents, we stopped and got ready to return. We pushed off and sped down those hills with a blissful--wheeeeeeeeeeee--thrilled to be racing down hill at full speed--we both love a good descent. 

I was so touched by my friend's patient, generous spirit toward me. She made it easy for me to lose my self-consciousness and to have confidence that I will be able to complete the 25 mile ride that we're embarking on together in October. As she reminded me later, "We're a team". 

This ride served as a perfect metaphor for what I am looking for in my relationships, I want someone who is willing to stay present and to walk with me, even on the hard, slow, uphill parts. I am not ready yet to embark on a serious romantic relationship, but when I am, I am grateful to have a reminder of what a genuine partnership feels like:

Sweet, sweet bliss. 

Necessary Reminder

"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves." - From Mary Oliver's Poem Wild Geese

Tell. It. Mary Oliver. Tell it! 
I have always loved to bike ride. My first bike was a blue and candy pink number with butterflies and multi-colored streamers flickering from the handle bars. In my childhood, having wheels meant freedom. My gang and I biked to the pool and to the park, biked to explore the islands off the local rivers, biked to picnic, and biked several towns over (this was the serious advantage of growing up overseas where bike paths are everywhere) to hang out for the day. After my parents separated and we moved back to the States, I spent much of my seventh grade year (the worst year e.v.e.r. to be introduced to the American school system), biking the town with my friend and neighbor, Amy. At the time, we lived in a small town with a beautiful lake and lots of hills, so Amy and I would alternately, bike around the lake (7 miles, baby) or climb the steepest hills in our town in order to rest at the top for a few moments and then soar down the hill at full throttle. I began to bike again a few years ago when I plunked down the coin for a good hybrid bike (fat wheels, upright handle bars, no cross bar), but I haven't ridden all winter and now that it is spring, I have been eager to ride again. 

I live in a beautiful semi-rural area and now that I have a car, I have more options to drive out, park, and explore the region by bike. I devoted much of the last week to getting my trunk rack, which has been a whole project (research, reading reviews, and several trips to the bike shop) and I now have a secure trunk rack on my car for my bike that will allow me to tool around my county, park, and ride. Yesterday, I loaded up my bike and went for my first ride of the season out by the nature reserves. It was a windy, cool, sunny and beautiful day. I arrived around six and the parks and paths were almost empty. I biked up the path, over the stream, and alongside the woods. I felt bliss-full, joyous, at peace. I was having trouble with my bike seat - I couldn't get it to budge and therefore was riding too low (a problem I resolved once back at the car where I had the tool I needed to correct the problem), so I did not explore as far as I wanted to, but it felt great just getting out, pedaling, letting the wind wash over me. 

The stress that I had been feeling when I arrived at the park? Vanished. Another reminder, in fact the manillioneth reminder that feeling good is just about feeling good, it is not about actually getting anything solved or resolved. Even more importantly, feeling good does not have much necessary correlation to being good or walking through the dessert on my knees, repenting I am delighted to discover. I needed that reminder. 

Rob Breezny's Scorpio Horoscope for Week of March 12th. "'Here's what I'm looking for,' said a personal classified I read online. 'Someone who can tear me away from living inside my head . . . who sees things in me that I don't see myself.' That's exactly what I want for you right now, Scorpio. Whether this someone shows up in the form of an ally or enemy or beloved animal or invisible friend, I don't care. The important thing is that he or she awakens you to certain mysteries about you that you've been blind to, and helps free you from the unconscious delusion that all of reality is contained inside the boundaries of your skull."

Hee. Hee. As usual, Breezny hits the nail on the head. 

In an effort, to get outside the "boundaries of my skull," I decided a few months ago to enter the MS City to Shore Bike Ride in New Jersey this upcoming October. Winter has dragged on, but now spring is here and it is time for me to begin training. 

I am currently in the market for a bike rack and for a bike computer to track my miles. I have begun to identify training routes. I am fortunate to live in a gorgeously scenic area and I am really looking forward to feeling the freedom riding my bike brings me. 

I have a terrific bike that I love. I am scheduling a tune-up to get her ride-ready. Still, I am out of shape, so I will start s-l-o-w-l-y. Rather than make grand goals or chart out the exact training course, I have decided to give myself a few weeks to a month, just to ride and enjoy it and see where I am at in terms of the number of miles I can easily do. I will build from there. 

And, if an ally or friend, or better yet, gasp, a girlfriend, comes along to help me awaken to certain mysteries about myself that I have been blind to, well I will welcome the revelations.