sublingua

The heart with a mind of its own.

(Be present.)

The mind with a heart of its own.

(It's past.)

The dream that is your waking life.

(Go there now.)

Frida
Thursday, Sept. 16, 2004

Frida

I took Frida out for a long ride last night. She's such a beauty, I can't even tell you how much I love her. I bought flowers for her, big sunflowers and vivid daisies, and I put them on her altar, and then we went out into the night to ride.

One of the reasons I love her so much is that I can't do certain things while I'm on her. I can't be mindless about the road when I'm riding. I can't, say, answer my cell phone when it rings. I can't grab a coffee drink or food and put it on the seat and eat or drink. I can't listen to music, so I sing to myself or recite poetry. It's always interesting what comes into/out of my head. Last night there was a lot of Joy Harjo in there, some Tom Petty, some Fleetwood Mac. I'm utterly and completely alone when I'm on her back. There's no one to have to talk to--even if I wanted to. I love that.

Sometimes I talk to Frida and she sometimes answers back. I tell her that I am proud of her when we take to the road, proud of her when we remember to corner the way we've been taught to, proud when she gets up to speed and when she comes to a perfect stop. She reminds me of what needs to be done, reminds me to stay mindful, to watch road conditions, to keep an eye out for myself.

I'm already planning a longer trip, just me and Frida, alone and anonymous in a nearby city, in a motel room with the curtains wide open and the television off, the sun setting on a distant horizon.

They say dream big.

This is big.

Trust me.

retreat or surrender

More lies:
Waking Sleeping Demons II - Sunday, Oct. 30, 2011
Waking Sleeping Demons - Saturday, Oct. 29, 2011
time - Friday, May. 20, 2011
- - Wednesday, Oct. 06, 2010
The Return - Tuesday, Oct. 05, 2010

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