I ride....therefore I am.

I ride a motorcycle.

I love the wind in my face

I love the smell of freshly cut mint fields

I love the sexy look of leather chaps

I love turning my ipod onto high volume and listening to Bon Jovi belt out "Its my life''

I love the temperature changes as I drive by a river.

I love rolling my throttle into a curve.

I love seeing naked lust in guy's eyes-- realizing its not for me--its for the bike.

I love putting on my gear , turning the key and hearing the roar of the pipes.

I love the sheer terror of taking a corner too hot and feeling my foot pedal scrape the pavement.

I love the camaraderie of other bikers, giving the 'signal' as we pass each other.

I love trying to pack 3 days of clothes and toiletries (plus my giant mug) into a small duffle bag.

I love not caring if my hair is a mess (thank heaven for pink ballcaps)

I love riding to the coast on windy roads, smelling the salty air the closer I get to the sea.

I love the look on someone's face when they watch me take off my full faced (black) helmet and see that I'm female.

Yes, I'm a minority...a female who rides her own bike.

I wish more ladies would become braver.

After all what woman doesnt want an 800 pound vibrator between her thighs?

Not a Crisis til I say it is....

I never in a million years thought about it.

"It'' couldn't ever happen to ME.

I'm too stable. Too responsible. Too ....

normal.

I'm talking about a mid-life crisis.

I'm here to tell you, a mid life crisis is as real as puberty.

It's funny, once the kids left....something snapped in me.

Snapped big. Snapped hard. Snapped fast.

My little happy world as I knew it crumpled and folded in on itself.

At the tender age of 45, I started acting very unlike me.

I bought a new shiny red motorcycle. I went to the dermatologist and got microdermbrasion, botox and laser treatments, I went through my closet and pulled out the 'sensible' clothes and replaced them with cleavage baring body hugging wearables. Considered training for a triathlon (I still might).

I even started drinking wine ...alone.

I stopped calling friends and family, I drew a line in the sand and declared myself to be an island...I didnt need anyone.

After all, who did I have to answer to?

Certainly nobody...I was DONE being responsible.

During all of this, those around me stayed fairly silent as I pushed them away.

So, to my friends and family....my apologies.

It's been a long year of self indulgence, growth, and some eye opening moments.

So for now, I'm back in my body.

Exactly where I'm supposed to be.

Crossroads

I'm at a funny place in my life.

I'm too old to be young, and too young to be old.

I have raised my children, bought and sold homes, been at the pinnacle career-wise, married a very long time, done just about everything I ever wanted.

So, now what?

Kids are gone, house is too quiet, marriage is stale, career is boring.....

I've been looking around for new things to do. Things to accomplish that fulfill that creative spirit in me, that hunger and drive to succeed.

I've always been a go getter.

Been called 'Midas' on more than one occasion. In the past, what businesses and projects I touched turned to gold and were successful. I'm wondering if I can do that again.

It's like I'm craving it now.

Weird, I know.

I'm looking around for ideas...will keep you posted if I figure anything out.

...And nothing but the truth....

Everyone lies.

We lie to get out of something, we lie because we're scared.

We lie to be nice. We lie to make a story more interesting.

We lie on our taxes, we lie to police officers about our speeding habits.

When someone asks us how we're doing, we say 'just fine' even when we have the stomach flu.

We even lie to pan handlers when we tell them we dont have any cash.

These 'little' lies really dont hurt anyone, right?

I think they do.

The problem with the first lie, is that it makes a second lie even easier to tell.

And the third. And the fourth...and so on.

People become used to lying.

Used to covering up the truth.

Used to stretching a half truth to becoming a reality.

A half truth is also a half lie.

Lying degrades our integrity.

It hurts people's opinions of us when we're in relationships

Being branded a liar makes people wonder if you're telling the truth in any given situation.

Lying degrades trust.

And trust is irreplaceable.

Dusting off the Keys

I've been hearing from various people about how I should continue writing in this blog.
It's funny, I never expected anyone to actually read this stuff, must less garner a following.

Maybe its time to start the engine, grease the wheels and kick the spiders off the keyboard.

Hang on kids....this could be a bumpy ride.

I'm back.

A matter of time...

Where does wasted time go?

Is there a graveyard for it?

A place where a person can pluck it off the shelf, dust it off and use it up more wisely?

Maybe even hand my wasted time over to a person or pet that's dying.

Like bestowing a gift.

I think of all the time that I have wasted in my life ...and I feel like weeping.

But then, I wonder--was it really wasted?

If I wasnt constantly in motion, producing something or thinking deeply, does that nullify the fact that I just....was?

Being me. Isnt that enough?

We are all just part of the fabric that will eventually fade. Muted colors will whiten and vibrant colors will pale. New fabric will be woven, stronger and different--but never exactly like the previous.

In my recent downtime, I discovered that time marches on, with or without us in it.

The passage of time is the only constant in the here and now.

.....tick tock....tides turning....leaves falling....newborn babies...

You know, much as I hate change--I wouldnt have it any other way.

A Matter of Trust

I've been thinking about trust lately.
Some people are able to give trust right away.
They simply overlook any past difficulties and blaze through relationships with an innocent heart.
How I envy those people. They look at the world with a child's eye. They love without reservation, without misgivings.

I'm not one to give trust freely.
It must be earned.
Guarded, protected.

Any little thing can tip the balance and I tend to run when trust is breached.
I dont want to, but the consequences of not trusting someone in my world can be huge.

Wouldnt it be great if we all looked at people like a 6 year old does?

A smile. A recognition. Maybe even a grubby hand holding mine.
Innocence lost.
When there is no more trust.