Tuesday, June 30

Clipped wings…No Cuba, No Peru

My wings felt clipped this weekend. So, I am glad in some ways to see it pass. A ton of incomplete work is squeezing the breath from me. Glad this too shall pass because it’s painful, relatively speaking, to sit at a computer and stare at a screen where the words simply refuse to appear easily. Some famous writer once said writing is easy, all you have to do is open up a vein. On the other hand, I’m also not thrilled to see the weekend go as it signals that yet another 48 hours have elapsed and I’m still not where I need to be in my task. I need more time but I’ve had too much time already.Thus, my plans to visit Peru and Cuba remain unfulfilled. Internally, I’m whining and that feeling of being constrained is both distracting and blocking. I did an errand on the ‘cycle, which should have taken 30 minutes tops. Took me nearly 2 hours as I found all kinds of reasons for other errands that had to be done. Riding is more than a physical act. It is also spiritual and can be a muse of sorts. To ride safely, one needs to be completely focused on the task and perhaps doing that, helps loosen up other regions of the brain to let the creative juices flow. Sometimes taking a very long walk will have the same effect and something I‘ve been puzzling over all becomes clear. I should have taken a short 50 miles ride--it would have done wonders for me, I‘m sure about that. It is my fault that I am shackled (more or less) this weekend. I have only myself to blame. A too full plate will eventually topple.

When shall I learn? This is not unfamiliar territory. Still, it’s got to end this week. A long weekend is on the horizon and the sweet scent of freedom beckons me.

Feeling sorry for myself this weekend made me think of a poem by one of my favorite poets, Paul Lawrence Dunbar, appropriately titled “Sympathy.”

I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals--
I know what the caged bird feels!

I know why the caged bird beats his wing
Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
For he must fly back to his perch and cling
When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
And they pulse again with a keener sting--
I know why he beats his wing!

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,--
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings--
I know why the caged bird sings!
Paul Laurence Dunbar

When I am free, I shall visit Dayton, OH where Dunbar is from. There is a National Parks stamp I can collect on him. He was a classmate of one of the Wright brothers, so I can also retrieve an aviation stamp to honor their contributions to flight. I shall also visit Woodland Cemetery where Dunbar is buried and say a special thanks to him for poems I first read as a child.








9 comments:

bobskoot said...



Sharon:
When I first read "Clipped Wings", I was thinking the worst, but nothing serious . . . it's only work which fuels the resources necessary to be able to enjoy the weekends. You are truly fortunate, it could be worse, no work on your plate, with no prospects. Next weekend will come soon enough.

Unfortunatly our "Canada Day" falls on Wednesday, so no long weekend for us. I am so tired. we just came back from Penticton. Lots of stories and material for blog posting but so many thoughts and how to organize them in my mind. So I too have a Full Plate full of random words not complete enough to form sentences.


take care and enjoy the long weekend

bob
bobskoot: wet coast scootin

Sojourner rides said...

Bob,

Glad the news here was not the "worst"--yikes. You are so right, I need the job to buy and pay for my toys. Still, the whining helps be blow off some steam!

I bet you've got some tales to share and keep you busy for a spell. Looking forward to reading more of your adventures.

The long weekend...I am dizzy with all the choices before me on what to do and where to go over the long weekend.

cpa3485 (JIM) said...

The poem is a great way of expressing your feelings, very nice.
In a way I can't feel too sorry for you. I didn't get to go to Europe this year. (just kidding) But I do know what it feels like to wish you could be out riding instead of being cooped up at a desk.

Sojourner rides said...

Jim,

Thanks for knowing how I felt--and continue to feel. Funny thing is, when I was working for myself, I rarely if ever "whined" or fretted too much. I put in insanely long hours but because they were for me, I had a different disposition toward the work. I think it's because I could determine my comings and goings more. Oh well...live and learn. I'm working on my "disposition."

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Sharon:

You have a lingering case of the "blahs." What you need is rollicking good time at a BMW Rally in Tennessee, in thr company of lunatics. I know about 70 of them who are going there.

The second best way to beat the "blahs" is to simply say, "I have no time for this shit," and get on with it. I too am a professional writer who is often forced to produce at inconvenient times. (An inconvenient time is any time when I feel like doing something else, which is pretty much always.)

After 30 years as a business travel writer, I am watching my career evaporate. Business travel is in the toilet, and the sad truth is it's not coming back. Ever. The cost of gas has begun to climb again and without business travel to subsidize leisure travel, the cost of flying anyplace is about to soar.

As for me, I haven't worked in an office environment in 30 years. I am getting the horrors just thinking about having to pound the pavement.

Know what I did today? I sold enough text to guarantee a new set of tires for my bike, and read Scooter In The Sticks. I feel better already.

I'm looking forward to running into you in Tennessee. I'm staying at the Jameson Inn and will foreward my cell number to you via the usual channel. If you are camping at this rally (gasp), I will let you take a shower at my place. No line and air conditioned. I understand the rally showers are modeled after those in a Turkish prison.

Fondest regards,
Jack "r" Toad
Twisted Roads

Sojourner rides said...

Jack,

Camping?! Are you mad man!! Bite your tongue!!!! I love long distance riding but after I'm done I need privacy, a hot shower, and time to be with me, myself, and I!! I am sociable to a point, but I also am a loner and you will not, I can guarantee you, find me camping at the BMW event. When I saw that campground in West Bend, WI--I knew it would never be me among that group.

You've lifted my spirits with your note. (I am determined to get my longish email to you before TN.)

I hope that you don't have to pound the pavement and can find something else. Get that social networking activated...

bobskoot said...



Sharon:
I'll stick with you, NO camping for me either. Last year I rode to Oregon for that Rally in Stevenson. It was a camping rally, but I stayed at the local 3 star motel. I did a tour of the camping facilites and they have coin activated machines in order to turn the showers on and of course, no privacy.

In a couple of weeks, I will be riding to Kelowna (for another camping rally), but I stay a few miles away at the motel.

A lot of riders prefer to stay at a motel. At the BMWOA rally in John Day, OR which is a camping rally, many do not camp. Check out the BMW riders of Oregon website.

bob
bobskoot: wet coast scootin

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Sharon:

That's the spirit!

Spit in the eye of camping and scream out for the open road!

Fondest regards,
Jack "r" Toad
Twisted Roads

Sojourner rides said...

Bob,

Looking forward to your report and pics from the rally! Looks like we'll both have rally news to share soon.

Ride safe!