Twirl Me About...Say it was only a Dream

Listen here

I can recall the sound of the wind
As it blew through the trees and the trees would bend
I can recall the smell of the rain
On a hot summer night
Coming through the screen

I'd crawl in your bed when the lightning flashed
And I'd still be there when the storm had passed
Dead to the world, to the morning cast
Its light all around your room

We lived on a street where the tall elm shade
Was as green as the grass and as cool as a blade
That you held in your teeth as we lay on our backs St Liborius Catholic Church
Staring up at the blue and the blue stared back St Libory, IL

I used to believe we were just like those trees
We'd grow just as tall and as proud as we pleased
With our feet on the ground and our arms in the breeze
Under a sheltering sky

Twirl me about, and twirl me around
Let me grow dizzy and fall to the ground
And when I look up at you looking down,
Say it was only a dream

A big truck was parked in the drive one day
They wrapped us in paper and moved us away
Your room was no longer next door to mine
And this kid sister thing was old by that time

But oh how our dreams went bump in the night
And the voices downstairs getting into a fight
And the next day a silence you could cut with a knife
And feel like a blade at your throat

Twirl me about and twirl me around
Let me grow dizzy and fall to the ground
When I look up at you looking down
Say it as only a dream

The day you left home you got an early start
I watched your car back out in the dark
I opened the door to your room down the hall
I turned on the light
And all that I saw
Was a bed and a desk and couple of tacks
No sign of someone who expects to be back
It must have been one hell of a suitcase you packed

Twirl me about, twirl me around
Let me grow dizzy and fall to the ground
When I look up at you looking down
Say it was only a dream

-Mary Chapin Carpenter, Only A Dream

This song has been in my head for weeks now, and nearly 20 years after first discovering it, I'm still taken away each time - nearly moved to tears. We all have memories we cling to for comfort, times we wish we could retain and experiences so laced with pain that it feels they will never drift from our thoughts - fearing that we're destined to relieve them in our mind with no apparent end in sight. Over the summer and past year, I've tasted all of these as I'm sure you have as well at some point. They are the stuff of life and part of our process of "becoming" - a journey never truly complete; a pilgrimage...which was to be the theme of my sabbatical.

Who among us has not wished to twirl around and discover that is was all just a dream...a horrible, heart wrenching dream? I can't make excuses or pretend I haven't been wondering why all this happening at once...not necessarily "why" on its own, but my God, three life altering event in three months? Not really even, "why me" but just why all at the same time.

Then my thoughts turn to the possibility of not only seeing this as my "dark night of the soul," but also as some profound opportunity or pending experience of joy that has not made itself apparent yet...and that would be the hardest part, right? The not knowing, not understanding...the waiting and not being in control with no particular clue of resolution on the horizon. The sting of being the one not chosen versus the one making the choice.

So in the end, it is all part of the journey - I doubt that's any great revelation to you, and it certainly doesn't make these things any easier. In fact, I want to scream and punch something when I hear some of the platitudes told to me over the past month...particularly the religious based ones. Not because I've lost faith or don't appreciate people's intentions, but because...well, maybe because I wanted to be pissed off for a while and on some level couldn't believe that people were not thinking through what they were saying. But I digress...

In these times the questions present themselves:

What will we do?

Who will we be?

Peace on the Journey!

Why I Ride

This is me on Mt. Evans Road in Colorado...the highest paved auto road in North America, August 2009

Some may say I deserved it because of the risks involved; I told you so; or that I have no right to complain because I chose to ride. True, I made the choice, but I also took the safety class, bought some of the best protective gear available in hi-viz colors, and added extra lights to the bike for increased visibility. You can't control someone else's negligence, bravado, or disrespect for life.

I was never dismissive of the risks, but I also had not felt as much like myself as when I started riding - especially when I attended the AMA International Women & Motorcycling Conference in 2009 held in Keystone, Colorado. After I began riding, I stumbled upon an article about the 2006 conference that was held in Athens, Georgia and promised myself that if I was still riding in 2009, I would find a way to make it to Keystone - I actually entered it into my Outlook calendar. Even when my then-spouse showed no interest in joining me before or after the conference, I forged on undeterred. My registration was secured, flight booked, and rental motorcycle arranged, I even made a connection on the conference board of Women Riders Now and met a sister rider (Hi Kelly!) from San Francisco. We split a cab to the dealership and hit the road from Denver to Keystone on our rented machines. Those few days comprised some of the most spiritually centered times I have ever experienced...perhaps more about that in another post.

All this to introduce the article I wrote in advance of the 2009 Conference that was published online. Read it here.

Journey On!

I Can't Believe I Get to do This...Cue the Semi

The same sun that melts the wax can harden clay

and the same rain that drowns the rat can grow the hay

and the mighty wind that knocks us down,

if we lean into it, will drive our fears away.

-Amy Grant, How Can We See that Far

So after leaving the hills of Kentucky behind and rolling across the flat farmscapes of Indiana and Illinois, I was surprised to find myself nestled once again between carved rock as I began my journey across Missouri. I made a mental note to brush up on my geography and check out a topo map of Missouri when I arrived in Gardner, Kansas that night at the home of a sister Motor Maid.It was a pleasant surprise as I remembered what had occurred to me years ago...After a trip to Florida I realized I am more

of a mountain person than a beach person. Florida was so flat, I felt like a spec that could be plucked off the earth's surface by a cosmic pointer finger and thumb at any moment without warning...which of course is certainly true. Ah, but riding through the mountains is different. I find it makes me feel more a part of the earth - hunkered down inside it, underscoring the feeling of our interdependence upon one another.

I spent some more time at The Arch that Monday morning, July 19, before rolling out of the Hilton parking garage (thanks brother!) in pursuit of my westward journey. It's a lovely place to stroll and it truly is an engineering marvel. Standing below and looking up, I saw others experience its

dizzying effects. There are so many things to see in our country, and I was trying to remember each small slice that I was privileged to encounter.

Apparently I had stumbled onto part of Route 66 as I rolled along, so of course I had to get a shot! It turned out to be the last photo taken on my long anticipated sabbatical adventure.

A couple hours later i was sensing the beginning of hunger pains and growing weary of the too-close -for-comfort company of what appeared to be a semi tractor trailer truck in my mirrors. Nonetheless I was having a blast - I couldn't believe I had actually embarked on this trip as part of my sabbatical exploration of pilgrimage. I was nearly half way to Borderlands Ranch located in the Black Hills of South Dakota where I would reflect on the Lakota Way, spirituality of the land, and continue to discern what might be next for me.

US 50 West was a fun road with a few hills, gentle curves and sporadic straightaways. Nothing crazy, just a nice blend of varied terrain across the "Show Me State." Its two lanes through farms didn't provide many places to pull over and allow the truck to pass, so when a sign appeared announcing a Road Side Park in five miles, I figured that was my chance. I would pull off, allowing the truck to move on down the road while I had a Kashi bar and stretch break. Another sign appeared as a half mile warning for the park and a peeled my eyes for it. Signaling and slowing in preparation for the left turn to enter the park on the gravel drive, I was carefully calculating my speed and projected turning radius as I again glanced in the left mirror - only to see it completely filled with the cab of the truck...no sky, no pavement...only metal and glass of what had now grown to feel like a predator with me in sight as its prey.

Apparently 15-20 minutes later, I awoke on my back feeling really rested and thinking I'd just had an awesome nap, but couldn't figure out why I would take a nap in my helmet. Then I glanced to the right to see my bike on its side and realized two men were crouched over me, "Oh, no, my Dad is going to be so mad. This is what they feared...I'm down."

The gentleman over me held a walkie talkie and told me paramedics were on the way. I knew instinctively without yet truly feeling the pain that moving my left arm was not an option. As the significance of what had just happened began to dawn on me, I think I intentionally looked down at my feet and tried to move them...Thank God! They moved!

A highway patrolman crouched down to take my

statement and was quickly gone. Another man crouched about 6-10 feet away at my feet peering through the men over me but never spoke directly to me. I believe he may have been the tailgating truck driver who just slammed into me - obliterating not only this month of the sabbatical i'd spent one year planning and raising funds for but most likely my other parts of the three month sabbatical, including a class at St George's College in Jerusalem which would have taken me to the deserts and monasteries of Jordan and Egypt, including Mt Sinai. Beyond that, I had no idea how severely this would impact the job search I needed to initiate.

Sirens drew new and it was surreal to realize they were coming for me. The following minutes, and for that matter days, were a blur of activity, people and tests. I was driven to St Mary's in Jefferson City and subsequently helicoptered to University Hospital in Columbia where the medical frenzy continued.

Over the next several hours I remained on the backboard in the neck collar while multiple teams of physicians and nurses determined treatments and we awaited word on when I could go into surgery. Consequently, my repeated requests for something to quench my extreme thirst were denied until it was decided my elbow operation would not be until Wednesday. That procedure alone would last at least four hours. The hand surgery would occur the following Monday and take over two hours. I am now the proud owner of assorted plates and screws in addition to a prognosis of extreme arthritis and eventually another surgery to remove the bone in my hand/thumb due to the anticipated severity of the arthritis.

Those first days included fading in and out of sleep, headaches from the concussion - which included some bleeding on the brain - and nausea every time they moved my bed. I've never been a back sleeper, but being in the cervical collar with thoracic extensions for my three fractured vertebrae didn't offer me an option or the ability to adjust my position. Leaning to the side to relieve the hot spots or needing to use the bathroom required me to ring for assistance in getting out of bed. Thank God I was able to walk. I wonder what the truck driver was doing?

I am so grateful to all who helped with my medical care: first responders, paramedics, air transport, doctors, nurses, radiologists, food service, IV specialist, physical and occupational therapists. It's impossible to remember them all, but I tried to retain as many as I could: Beth, Teresa, Kathy, Connie, Dan, Bill, Megan, Amanda, Julie, Dana, Francisco, Mohammed, James, Brett, Brandon, TJ (who provided me with some golf conversation...you're still crazy for playing everyday!).

After one week in the hospital, my parents and I spent another week in a hotel dealing with details - including a visit to the crash site. My sister arranged a flight for them so they were at the hospital the evening after the accident, That must have been the longest 24 hours they have experienced, I can't thank them enough for what they have done and continue to do for me. Eventually we arrived in Raleigh at my sister's for a week of rest before returning to Charlotte for the first round of follow up doctor visits...thank you Paul, Steve and Bruce!

I did everything I could to prepare for the safety of this trip: classes, practice hours on the bike, mechanical tune ups, extra lights on the bike, full safety gear - including hi-viz clothing, but none of that matters if someone tailgates you, is inattentive, thinks they have more right to the road than you, and that you are in their way if you are NOT speeding.

I must say I feel like I've been thrust into my own 'Truman Show." All i wanted to do was explore the country and stretch my wings a bit - to get away from the routine and discern the evolving changes in recent life events. But somewhere someone cued the semi and sucked me back into the set. I went from enjoying the privilege of solitude - time and space to simply be and reflect, to the chaos and confinement of 24/7 care. Mind you, I am grateful for the support and network...I'm just still trying to adjust to it.

Look twice, save a life, pay attention, and BACK OFF...motorcycles are everywhere.

Journey On!

Into Every Life...

Some rain must fall...

Yes, this was actually a thought for a post prior to the events of July 19. So, endulge me and let's live in the past a bit...

On Sunday, July 18 I awoke in Mount Vernon, Illionois and checked the weather to find a vicious line of thunderstorms moving quickly towards St. Louis from the west. Being not more than 100 miles east of St Louis, I began the waiting and calculation game: If I hit the road as

planned before 9am, would I be in a safe place before meeting the storm? Would it come through Mt. Vernon? Could I dodge it by traveling further north or south than originally planned? It was packing 60-70 mph winds (near Category 1 hurricaine levels), wicked lightening and isolated reports of hail and possible twisters. None of this was anything I wanted to encounter on the bike.

And so it went for the next 4-5 hours. I decided staying put was the best option while watching numerous other bikers seek brief shelter from the rain at the gas station across from the hotel...they were heading east and would likely out run the storm.

Finally I checked out and rode west about 20 miles before pulling over in Ashley, IL (population 650) to grab some lunch at The Lantern Pub. I decided it was very likely the only restaurant in town. The moveable table and chairs enveloped by the brown paneling and black and white tile floor lead me to believe this was a line-dancing nightlife spot. They still called me "honey" and I thoroughly enjoyed the special: tomato stuffed with chicken salad.

The rest of the day was a relaxed ride across Illinois into Missouri and ultimately the city where I was eventually greeted by The Arch. That night as I walked to dinner where I met a delightful couple from New Jersey, I saw a man in a business suit topped off with a cowboy hat, and I knew I was officially in The West!

There was plenty of turning around for photos, at dead ends, and missed streets - all part of the experience. Mostly the day struck me as a reflection upon waiting...most noatably as it began with those threatening storms. I was so anxious to make up the distance I had fallen short on the previous day - as my previous plan was to arrive in St Louis on Day 3 so Day 4 could be spent off the bike in rest. Eventually you must give way to the mind and events of the road as they unfold in their own time...a difficult task for those of us with control issues.

Journey On!

Looking thru the Turn, Teenage Goats, and Construction Barrels

Riding is simply a unique experience. At least one of my friends and my sister tried to persuade me to rent a converitble for the trip instead...it's just not the same. Everthing is more personal on a motorcycle. It requires you to be more present in what you are doing and experiencing. I've described it to others as the difference between hurdling through time and space versus being part of time and space (i.e. taking the interstates for the purpose of getting from point A to point B or taking the backroads and stopping when something catches your attention).

Of particular importance is looking through any curve or corner before you get there. This is so important because the bike will go in the direction you are looking. The same principle applies to moutain biking. If you stare at a tree, ditch, hole in the road or another car...guess where you're going? Several times during the ride I've caught myself looking to the middle of the turn and not all the way through it. Now, it's a fine balance to watch for road obstructions (potentially more hazardous on two wheels than four), off road threats, and the ultimate direction of where you want to go. During one of these moments it occured to me that maybe we sometimes do the same thing in life...We think we're looking towards the horizon, but really we're too afraid or mired down in what's happening or about to happen to truly look forward to what could be. Or is it that the possibilites themselves are so unknown or worrisome to us (maybe because they're unknown) that we simply don't want to risk looking that far?

Now the trick here is to not miss the moment; don't get so concerned with what's next that we miss the beauty or experience of the present. A very fine balance, my friend. An example...

I crossed into Kentucky on Route 99 which curved quickly and sharply to the right as another road approached from the left. It happened so fast I missed it and traveled another mile or two before finding a place to turn around...gotta get a picture of every stateline, right? So after missing the sign I am approaching what I initially thought was a pack of dogs on the side of the road and began to slow down to evaluate (dogs tend to chase motorcycles). I realized they were goats. Apparently they snuck out of their barbed wire fence to eat the grass beside the road instead of the grass that was inside their "approved space" - I'll leave you to ponder the obvious for yourself on that one.

When one of them saw me, it looked at the others and they all scampered back inside the barbed wire which was only about six feet from the road. It was almost as if he said, "Someone's coming...back, back, back!" Now after that I eventually found a place to turn around and get my stateline shot. This meant that I pased those goats three times and each time they did the same thing. For some reason this was absolutley hilarious to me and I began to wonder if they were teenage goats. Afterall, during those formative years it's basically our primary job description to test the boundaries and push the limits. So I missed the intial stateline, but had the delightful experience of chuckling at those goats three times!

At another point, I veered off 52 when I saw a sign for Clymos Motorcycle Museum in Red Boiling Springs. A small little venue but really cute town, and they had a mannequin wearing one rendition of a Motor Maid uniform! Go Motor Maids - the longest running women's motorcycling organization in the country...we're also in Canada!

And finally, a word to anyone planning to travel this summer, looking for an investment opportunity or grumbnling about taxes. Apparently it's contruction season on the roads and the stimulous money is being used. I only wish I had stock in the company that makes those ornage and white construction barrels.

This post kindly brought to you by the Edmondson Couthy Library in Brownsville KY - they were kind enough to post a blue directional sign off 70 West which I saw as I looked up from having pulled over at a gas station to jot some notes that I want to include in the blog...perferct timing!

Journey On!

To See...and the Kindness of the Three Stooges

I think over again my small adventures
my fears
those small one that seemed so big

For all the vital things
I had to get and to reach

And yet there is only one great thing
the only thing

To live to see the great day that dawns
and the light that fills the world.

-Old Inuit Song


So one of my dad's objections to this journey was that "people are mean," and I will concede that unfortunately, there are folks in this world with less than beneficent intentions. But today as I rolled into the Little Swtizerland Cafe just off the Blue Ridge Parkway...and a wonderfully curvy 226A...I encountered the kindness of strangers.

The Cafe is a popular spot for bikers and a couple of groups were there, including Paul, Larry and Bob...or as they referred to themselves...Moe, Larry and Curly. They were on jaunt from Alabama to Virgina. As is the point with motorcyclists, they were enjoying the experience, their friendship and the happenings along the way. I shared a little of my journey plans and they were thrilled for me while adding the caveat to be careful, suggesting things to see, routes to ride, and asking if I had certain pieces of repair gear. Finding I had a tire puncture repair kit, but no can of compressed air, Paul said, I'll give you something before you leave.

We continued our respective meals and after a bit Paul emerged from digging through his sport cruiser's bags with three items in hand: a can of compressed air (which he reminded me many times was very cold and not to shoot my fingers with it because they would freeze off), a red LED reading light that would clip to a ball cap (reading maps or such with a red light when it's dark won't give you the after burn in your vision like a white light will) and a sheet of duct tape - yes, a sheet about one foot wide. I already had a roll in my bags, but Paul said the sheet could come in very handy for larger repairs.

Every so often he would think of another piece of riding advice and pass it on. He and the other stooges loaded up and were on their way. Unfortunately, Larry's bike at the slow speed, loaded down, heading out of the inclined curved parking spot got sucked down to the ground by gravity. He quickly looked up at me and said, "Now don't do THAT." His friends circled back for him while I and some others walked over to help him pick up the loaded bike. And just like that they were off to continue their own adventure.

Several hours later I pull into my friend's house in Knoxville where the hospitality graciously continues - a refreshing shower after a long day on the road, a fabulous meal, comfy place to sleep, and engaging conversation about things past and what is yet to be.

Ah yes, the kindness of strangers and taking the time to really see the dawing of the new day and the light that fills the world.

Journey On!

I Hope

"I find I'm so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope."

- Red, The Shawshank Redemption

The final day of preparation and anticipation - trying to do too much too late. My bike is washed and waxed, my bags packed (sort of), the house (nearly) clean, my mind (almost) calm. Now begins the initiation of letting go and feeling my way through it. Now begins the hope.

"Lord, it is night.

The night is for stillness.

Let us be still in the presence of God.

It is night after a long day.

What has been done has been done;

what had not been done had not been done;

let it be.

The night is dark.

Let our fears of the darkness of the world and of our own lives rest in you.

The night is quiet.

Let the quietness of your peace enfold us,

all dear to us,

and all who have no peace.

The night heralds the dawn.

Let us look expectantly to a new day,

new joys,

new possibilities.

In your name we pray.

Amen.

- excerpted from Night Prayer, as found in the A New Zealand Prayer Book.

Journey On!

Reset and Do Over

Most of us have probably had those times in our lives when we wished we could pause, rewind and undo something that just happened, or that we said or did. I don't know of anyone with such powers over time and space. However, I do find myself in the somewhat unique position having noticed a rather large Reset button in front of me.

A couple months ago, the economy finally arrived at my door and my position as a youth minister in an Episcopal parish was eliminated. Within two months of that, my spouse walked out of our 23 year relationship (not wholly unexpected, but certainly not anticipated the day it happened) and our house is now up for sale - I have no idea where I'll live if it does sell. So what's a girl to do?

Well, spend a month traveling by motorcycle, of course! I am fortunate and blessed that the three month sabbatical I'd earned through work will be honored. In that time I'll be exploring the concept of Pilgrimage by traveling 4,000 miles by motorcycle over 30 days through at least a dozen states and two countries and then spending three weeks in the Middle East (Israel/Palestine, Jordan, and Egypt) experiencing desert spirituality.

This last month in particular has not quite been filled with how I imagined my preparations to go. Instead of meticulously planning the route, packing and repacking, embarking on multiple training rides and re-instituting a workout schedule, I've been wondering what happened, photo copying documents, networking for a possible next career, second guessing if I should even go, and in general being a little pissed at everything that is happening at once.

That said, I'm actually excited about what might be on the other side. I mean, when such a "fruit basket turnover" materializes, there must be something in the works, right? My universe must be realigning itself, right? I must have been way out of balance and didn't realize it, right?

As far as being distracted from the preparation that I anticipated occurring, the first lesson of the 4,000 miles has already arrived - don't just expect the unexpected and try to be prepared as best you can, but embrace the unexpected and ask what you're being told. Really look at what's going on in your life in total and get creative with your response.

So, sit back, stayed tuned and join in the ride. I'll do my best to keep you up to date...

Journey on!