I was able to get my fix in. One of the best things about motorcycle riding is the need to be singularly focused on the ride. When I am, I strive to that place where I can feel myself zooming in on the ride and zooming out distracting clutter like the mental noise that a stressful job can produce. Work becomes a non-issue. Those who don't ride might not understand this, but riding a motorcycle is a most relaxing activity--even when I'm stuck in traffic. To ride well and safely, I need to block out all those things that tax the cells and clog the immune system. I enjoy that motorcycling demands sharp attention. I feel both alive and extra worldly when the riding seems automatic, the gear changing is smooth, my lower body moves my hips effortlessly to maneuver the bike, I'm relax--there's just nothing like it. Old, lightly traveled county roads, with tall cornstalks lining each roadside, have become genial, hiding places for weekend solo retreats. These rides are time well spent; they save me from appearing in the headline news--if you get my drift!
Time. It is elusive. We all have the same amount yet we use it differently. I had a woman tell me that she was bored and had nothing to do. I tried hard to understand her. I have been bored before; but never, to my knowledge, have I ever had nothing to do. I will continue to try to reign in my time robbers--even though the biggest one is the one I have the least amount of control over. Oh well...
For November, my time now includes Nanowrimo. By the end of the day, I will have over 18,000 words toward the 50,000 needed to crank out the first draft of a novel. If this amazing and strangely warm weather continues, I smell a weekend trip in the air.
I will not take time for it.
I will MAKE time for it.