|Mother's Day, 2016|
About a month before this picture was taken, to an acquaintance in my home town, who owned a motorcycle, which I had never actually seen,
I said: "I want to ask you a question..."
He said: "Yeah..."
I said: "Would you take me for a motorcycle ride? Because I have never done that before and I would feel safe with you."
He said: "Sure, I'll do that."
Elation overtook me and it is difficult to verbalize the joy I felt. I threw my hands in the air and smiled a smile that I could actually feel in my facial muscles.
Days passed. The cloud cover was constant where I live. It rained. The sun never came out. The temperature never reached fifty degrees. I converted the idea of riding the bike into a dream. It was going to happen. Just did not know when.
I spent my time doing my work and every now and again experiencing a surge to sort, throw away or set aside to give away my "things" in preparation for the move that I will make across country some day after my house sells.
I have no expectations about the sale of this house. At this point, it will take as long as it takes. What affects me the most is riding an incessant wave of limbo. I seek means to continue to enjoy my life. Perhaps repeating what I normally do but longing to switch gears occasionally.
In effort to keep my head above water, I think about a recent therapy session. The therapist I now see could be my daughter. She is the best therapist I have ever had. The session I refer to included EMDR, where the therapist processes with me a past trauma and molds a means to change my perspective on it.
In that session, I reunited and enfolded and embraced in compassion the little girl that I once was and still have within me.
This is who I am. Just as happy in the picture showing me when I was about four years old as I am in the picture that begins this writing.
About one o'clock on Mother's Day, my friend called: "The sun is shining," he said.
I said:"Yeah, isn't it great!"
He said; "Why don't we take a ride."
I said: "Great!"
I did the breakfast dishes and got dressed to go. In anticipation of this event, I had purchased a motorcycle jacket because I owned no jacket tough enough to withstand wind, or in the case of a spill, a skid on the road. My friend assured me that I would be more than fine. He had an extra helmet.
The motorcycle ride put my mind and body in places where they had never been. I was free. I was myself.
I had given my trust to my friend to carry me on the back of his gorgeous bike.
And I was free.
And I was free.
Nothing weighed on my mind. I relaxed, leaning into every next turn, adjusting myself when we rarely hit that unavoidable bump in the road.
In the wind.
Which was cold
The two variations of myself were one.
A powerful blend.
My friend and I are closer now.
It was fate.
A lovely fate.
Copyright 2016 Lyn Horton