It's all about The Dirt:

Sometimes when I blog, I feel like I’m writing to a screen that has no end. It’s open, yet it’s closed. It’s free, yet it feels somewhat caged in cyberspace. It’s a white screen with a black hole. What do the faces of the readers look like? Are there smiles? Does it go in one ear and out the other? How many thousands of other words have you been inundated with before you read this?

Where’s the connection amidst the clicks and scrolls?

Hello, is there anybody out there?

Where is the personal link behind the box?

Facebook, you knew that the mastermind behind the computer has feelings… and you capitalized on connection.

When you start a blog, there’s a rolling momentum that encourages you to forge ahead. The thrill of clicking the “Publish” button and sending a post out to elicit some sort of connection or share some tidbits of knowledge that I stumble upon. The new and exciting feel of jumping on a new bike for the first time… or maybe just a new life.

Woo hoo!! The creativity, ideas, and blog posts spew out onto the screen with ease.

Then I feel like I’m just writing on a wall. Yes, you all can see but it feels like it floats out there as cyber bits of rock among the asteroids. Everybody is blogging with gazillions of words. Blogs are tangled like snarled ponytails (ask my daughter about those). When I feel discouraged, then comes life. The idea pipeline gets clogged. Muddle in the middle. Life oozes into the cracks that allowed the expression to escape, stifling the time and energy that zaps to a halting stop. Now is where the hard part comes. Forcing posts or pushing creativity does NOT work… the flow needs to re-emerge as something new and fresh once again.

So I’m “back in the saddle” once again: Riding, writing and life. The new flow goes, the creativity re-awakened and the energy disperses more evenly to create balance. I completed my road race goal and come back to tipping the scales the other way… at least for a while.

But that’s what a scale is for, right? To hit the tipping point, then come back home to balance.

What comes with me is an understanding that there is some tidal movement: It can be a tidal wave, and then tiny lapping waves with barely a ripple. There is a time for certain moments to occur and then allowance to move on.

Thanks for hangin’ with me through Missing-in-action-May. Just know that I will always be real, and “real” is taking breaks too.

❤ ❤ ❤

“When you find yourself being ruled by the scores and outcomes of your physical tasks, build a stronger, more sublime base; focus on the process and appreciate each moment of play. You can do this by asking the question: ‘Why am I doing this… really?’ Get in touch with your inner, deeper motives for entering this particular arena of sports and fitness−why you play the game. You’ll discover that much of it has little to do with the outcome or the product. It is the process, joy, satisfaction and fun in the execution of a particular skill or move that turns you on. There is a strong divine connection between you and your sport. This is the dance that we refer to in which you totally give in to the natural movement of your physical routine. No need to think; silence the conscious mind. Put all aside; just play and dance the dance.” Working Out, Working Within, Jerry Lynch and Chungliang Al Huang

No more training for me… just dancing!

“Motherhood: All love begins and ends there.” – Robert Browning

Fear
“Do not be too timid and squeamish about your actions. All life is an experiment.
The more experiments you make the better.
What if they are a little coarse, and you may get your coat soiled or torn?
What if you do fail, and get fairly rolled in the dirt once or twice?
Up again; you shall never be so afraid of a tumble.” —Ralph Waldo Emerson

Today was probably the longest ride I did on my mountain bike without falling once. The only thing I changed was my fear. I wasn’t afraid at all today. I guess I’ve taken enough falls that I’m not “so afraid of a tumble.”

(bike art photo)