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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.) | |||
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Brief But Heartfelt
On Any Sunday I rented and watched the classic motorcycle racing movie, On Any Sunday last night. It's a damn hoot. The thing was made in 1971 and is not ashamed of that fact at all. The soundtrack alone was worth every penny of my rental dollar, and watching the guys lay down bikes (in the best of cases) and go tumbling off them and break various parts of themselves (the guys, not the bikes) in slow motion (in the worst of cases) was quite entertaining. One of the things I realized early on in my relationship with Frida is that I was really afraid of dropping her. I think it was much like when a new mother brings the shiny new baby home and is just very careful about handling her all the time. I'm still like that with Frida. But I'll tell you, watching those guys who ride like I want to be able to ride just drop their bikes, fall off, get thrown, over and over again was a lesson. One of the best riders, a man named Malcolm Smith, just fell off over and over and jumped up each time grinning like a fool. I want to be able to stay in touch with that grinning like a fool vibe, too. It seems pretty crucial, Frida-wise. But I also want to stay in touch with the beginner's mind in relationship to the bike. So we'll see how that plays out. Walk It Down A two-mile walk with Judi this morning in which we talked about how each of us motivates the other to actually get out of bed and hit the road. Judi started by saying that she was a wimp because she probably wouldn't be walking if I didn't want to. I assured her that I felt exactly the same way, that I liked having a walking partner and that not having her to walk with would probably mean the end of the cardio routine as we know it. I seriously would get on the elliptical trainer at the gym maybe three times a week if I weren't walking with Judi five times a week. So we must both be wimps, I guess. Then we talked about cartoons and Paul's next trip and about an FBI agent with whom Judi used to spar and about Judi's skydiving days. (Yes, she used to skydive. How cool is that? And did I ever mention that, for her 50th birthday, she took a week long racecar driving class in Florida? I love that woman.) Grateful I am grateful for Judi, for TATA, for Frida, for Malcolm's joyous tumbles off his motorcycles. I am grateful for too little sleep and too much caffeine. I am grateful. I am grateful for all of it, for every day, for this time, for this moment, for my life. I am grateful. I am grateful.
More lies:
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