Self control . . .

So I had one of my periodic cravings for chocolate that wasn't chocolate milk and realized I'd left my Premium Triple Chocolate M&M's at Laura's house in Tucson.  I had this momentary panic that there was no chocolate other than the drinkable kind in the house, which would be nearly unheard of for me.  Then it dawned on me back in December I got a quarter pound of fudge from the General Store on top of Mt. Lemmon.  And that most certainly DID make it home with me.

Out of the 1/8 of a pound of raspberry chocolate swirl fudge, and 1/8 lb pure chocolate fudge I bought I still have more than half of both of those.  So I took a slice of the one, let it slowly melt in my mouth, then the other and let that melt in my mouth, but them back in the ziplock, and back in the box.

I think it's all the years of mediation and mindfullness.  I can make a bag of premium M&M's last months and often do.  The Mt. Lemmon fudge will also be around for months, because when I take that little bit on my tongue, it's a timeless moment as the taste and texture slowly unfolds in my mouth.  Food for me in ways is like wine, or even sex, best if slowly savored over a long period of time.

Some folks envy my self control, I think it's just me being selfish in an odd way.  I cannot afford much, and despite having made simply obscene amounts of money once upon a time I've always lavished it on other people and not myself.  So I tend to savor the moments when they come.

If you're ever in Tucson Arizona, and can make it up to Mt. Lemmon and the general store there, by all means get some of the fudge.  It's some of the best I've had and that's saying something, given that I grew up in New England with some of the best fudge in the world at hand.

While I don't really consider Mt. Lemmon a mountain, it does sport some breath taking vistas, has a wonderful restaurant and great general store, I lived at higher elevations in the foothills of the Rockies when I lived in Colorado.  Now THOSE are mountains!

That said, Mt. Lemmon in the Catalina's is some serious must see territory.  And if you exercise some self control, fudge you by there will last a while. :)

Time is a river that tells no lies...

A Zen Koan I'm partial to, that was featured in an episode of Stargate SG1 reads like this:

"The river tells no lies. Though standing on the shore the dishonest man still hears them."

Taoism teach us about "Wei Wu" which is, over simplified, knowing when to act or not act.  Mind you it's not just the Tao, the concept of action, or not, is littered liberally through Eastern thought.  In various forms of martial arts for example it is often better to flow rather than block, let an opponent over extend, become unbalanced in stance and energy and use that to your advantage instead of a hard block.  Sometimes refereed to as using an opponents energy against them, it's all about knowing when to act or not to act.

Taoism will teach us not to fight the river, for we are certain to drown if we do so, but to let the river take us where it will, share with us it's lessons and then deposit us upon the shore when we are done.

Time I have known as an illusion for many years, because it either exists when I choose to observe it, or vanishes from sight when I am mindful and present.  I can and have actively in my own life chosen to absent myself from time by constructive use of mindfulness.  Doesn't matter what I was doing, the illusion of time vanished when I did not observe it, almost in support of Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle.  Simply stated, Heisenberg forwarded the concept that the act of observing a given event, would act to change the result of the event.  Almost like the butterfly effect talked about in popular culture.  Namely the suggestion that the flapping of a butterflies wings on one side of the world could cause a Tsunami on the other side.

Some time ago I talked about entropy being almost a safety value, working deliberately and intentionally at the quantum level, to help bring balance to the greater universe. How in that split second of the irresistible object meeting the immovable force, a timeless moment of pure peace and beauty can be had if one is open to it. 

Back to popular culture for a moment we find a subplot in the Star Trek movie "Insurrection" where Picard is being taught about timeless moments by a woman hundreds of years older than him who looks like she's younger than him.  Picard later uses what he didn't think he learned to stop time long enough to save this woman's life.  I'm reminded of Hamlet at the moment.  

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, 

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." -- Hamlet Act I, Scene IV

Which I've always understood as a particularly salient point that alludes to truth being far stranger than fiction. Having had my share of timeless moments, and mindfulness taken to the point where entire days simply vanish without effort I turned my mind toward time once again.  Especially given that I know at a quantum level it is simply a means of measurement, no more real or important than length, width or depth.  In a universe not limited to three (four) dimensions, there are multiple dimensions of time.  Going out a step further, the Multiverse (or M-Verse) theory suggests that everything and anything that possibly can happen, has happened, somewhere, somewhen.  The TV series Stargate makes great use of this concept over it's 11 year run where time is simply a vehicle for story telling, and regular crossings into alternate, parallel universes is common place.

Another "popular culture" reference that inspired this post is Garth Brook's song "The River" where he talks about the dreamer being a vessel;

You know a dream is like a river 

Ever changing as it flows 

And the dreamer's just the vessel

That must follow where it goes 

Trying to learn from what's behind you

And never knowing what's in store 

Makes each day a constant battle 

Just to stay between the shores. 

(Chorus) 

"And I will sail my vessel

'Til the river runs dry 

Like a bird upon the wind 

These waters are my sky 

I'll never reach my destination

If I never try 

So I will sail my vessel

'Til the river runs dry."

Too many times we stand aside

And let the waters slip away 

'Til what we put off 'til tomorrow

Has now become today 

So don't you sit upon the shoreline

And say you're satisfied 

Choose to chance the rapids 

And dare to dance the tide. 

(Chorus see above)

And there's bound to be rough waters

And I know I'll take some falls 

But with the good Lord as my captain

I can make it through them all. 

Yes I will sail my vessel

'Til the river runs dry 

Like a bird upon the wind 

These waters are my sky 

I'll never reach my destination

If I never try 

So I will sail my vessel

'Til the river runs dry.

Yes, I will sail my vessel

'Til the river runs dry 

'Til the river runs dry 

I woke up with this in my head this morning, it's a beautiful song in it's own right, but then it came to me, Time is a river too.  If we fight the river, we may drown, or at very least not learn from what it wishes to share with us.  If we simply stand beside the river, and let the water's slip away, we also may not benefit from the wisdom the river wishes to share with us.  Likewise, mindfulness, a form of meditation allows us to open ourselves up fully to what is around us, and simply take it all in, not judging, not shaping or forcing our will onto whatever may pass, but simply being very present in a given moment that becomes two, and four, and more, for however long one wishes to experience it.  Wu Wei, or better still, Wei Wu Wei.  Action without action.

Another Koan that comes to mind: "Put no distance between you and where you are."

In part it's about mindfulness, about being present, about the gifts the river will bring you.

Time will take one on a journey, and it will share with you what it will.  It will tell you no lies, but if you attempt to force your own views onto it, you will miss the beauty in the moments shared.

"The river tells no lies. Though standing on the shore the dishonest man still hears them."

All roads lead to the great path, many cross.

I've been growing, healing, moving in fits and starts down "the way" that leads back to the great path. When I can, rather than fight the river and surely drown, I let it take me where it will, and learn from what it shares with me.

Some years ago I met Laura because on our way to the great path, ours crossed.  We have been on and off walking for a while, working on being present.  So at one point when time and space conspired to have us within relative proximity and she suggested lunch, I agreed.  Two years ago that.  For me it was a big step.  I got up early (for me at the time) and drove the 50 miles up to Dayton from Cincinnati.  Several hours later we were both back on the road, me to "home" and her to her Dad's house.  It was a big step for me.

She's since become convinced I need to move to Tucson.  My plan has been to head home to Colorado.  I joked that I'd need to visit Tucson, explore some, get a feel for it before I'd consider it.  After all, my first move to Colorado so long ago was a result of a business trip there.  I got a taste and was hooked.  I let Earl take me from Colorado years ago, but with him gone now, my plan has been to go home one day soon.

That was two years ago.  I am not the same person I was, nor is Laura, but our relationship has grown. Last year during her annual pilgrimage to her father's house I met her in Dayton again, and had more fun.  Grew further because instead of just going up for lunch, I went up and stayed overnight at a Motel there and we had dinner and breakfast together.  Still she spoke of her enduring love for the Sonoran desert and her belief that I needed to move there.

And then she hatched an evil plot.

So December 9th after carefully planing, packing, and consulting with the weather God's, I set out in the Jumper toward her desert home.  As much about house and pet sitting while she and her boyfriend spend the holiday's with her Dad, as it was part of her evil plan to get her desert into my soul, I spent the last month there.  Yes, I drove almost four thousand miles round trip to house and pet sit.  But the logic was irrefutable.  I already knew and loved Emily (her Portie) and was certain that I'd have no problems with her other four legged people.  It would have cost her a small fortune to board them and they would have been stuck in cages and only periodically walked.  By driving down to the desert I'd be lessening their suffering, Laura would be able to rest easy and enjoy her trip knowing the wee ones were loved and free instead of locked in cages for more than a week.  It made sense all the way around.

On the 16th of January I bade farewell to the Sonoran desert and set course for my "Temporary Home" in Ohio.  The trip out and back, the more than a month I spent there, and the people I shared time with will be part of me forever.  Having now had a taste of the Sonoran desert I know I want more.  Laura's path and mine crossed some time ago, and we've been now and again walking together, even riding together, sharing what we know, and lending a hand and caring heart as we go.  You just  know I had to bring my bike with me right?  There will be more to follow on the subject, this is just a warm up.  This is just to say that Laura's evil plan has borne fruit, I enjoyed my time in the desert and all the paths of other people that crossed mine while I was there.

Dreams teach . . .

. . .and sometimes I learn things about myself, or have things confirmed that I'd known or suspected.  The last two nights are no exception.  And somehow I feel as though I've been tested and passed muster.  I have my suspicions there, but I'll keep those cards close to my vest as they say.  A least for the nonce.

Anyway, back to my dreams.  Or should I say nightmares.  They have been such a constant part of my life for so many years it's hard to say anymore where the line between dreams and nightmares exists, or even if it does.  I oft wonder if it is not so much a line as much a matter of degree?

Night before last I was out walking somewhere, in a city I'm not familiar with, when I was accosted by a complete stranger that decided I was not at home raising children doting on my husband like I was supposed to be. He decided I was evil because I wasn't sufficiently (or at all) cowed by his presence.  He warned me that God had given him the right, the duty, to smite me if need be.  Maybe I should have been showing the fear and terror of being put upon by this person that I was feeling or something, but instead I looked at him and said I seriously doubt you are permitted by God to smite me.  That is not the way God works.  Some more words of madness from him and finally I said, "Fine, you and I don't agree, I get that, and you feel you have to smite me, I get that too.  Before we get to the smiting part of our program can I just mention that with great power comes great responsibility?  And that it might be possible that while the lighting flashed and the sparks showered in one blink of your eyes you had had missed seeing?  That I could not be responsible for actions you take, only my own?  'The sun is warm, the wind is mild, willows are green along the shore, Here no bull can hide?'"  In a moment that felt much like Yosemite Sam facing off against Bugs Bunny he bellowed "Enough nonsense woman, prepare to meet your maker!"

I simply said "I put no distance between myself and where I am, what of you?  If smiting me is what you plan to do, might I suggest you just get on with it and stop wasting both of our time?"

I watched as his hands began to glow and thought it strange, after all, as a healer I could do the same thing but would never think to use it to harm another being.  So I set my hands to glowing and increased my own shielding against negative energy.  At which point his eyes took on an intensity that almost reminded me of a Stargate universe Goa'uld and I thought "ah, false gods," as a massive amount of energy poured out of the heavens in my direction, hit my shielding and enveloped him.  It wasn't pretty from there.  I felt slightly guilty, like I should have perhaps shielded him as well and dissipated the blast harmlessly, but it was to late for that and I awoke shaken from my encounter with an agent of a false god.

So last night was an even longer, more involved nightmare typical of many, if not most of mine.  I'm being chased by people that wish to harm me, captured, and then forced to work on their behalf to do things they wanted me to all while threatening to hurt or kill me if I didn't do just what they wanted, the way they wanted.  Over the course of several days things came to a head with one of the leaders of these people falling seriously ill.  My own nature was to help him, heal him is I could, and prevent harm from coming to him.  So again I lit up my hands and encouraged one of the people with me, who was also being held against her will, to help with the healing as well.  One of the other people stood there stunned and said "We were most likely going to kill you when we were done with you, why do you willingly help heal someone who is going to kill you?"

I pointed out that it was not my job to be his judge, jury and executioner, and not my nature to refuse to help someone based on a judgement call of such magnitude.  Mine is not to decide another's fate, mine is only to lessen if at all possible suffering and to use my gifts for the greater good.  To sit back and watch him die was not in my nature, regardless of what was in his.  I was already suffering at his hands, and letting him die would not change what I'd experienced.

Awakening from this dream I felt as though I'd passed some sort of test.  I was also reminded of why despite the way Earl and his parents were treating me, I still fought tirelessly to help him heal and grow.  How despite my own subjective distress I could remain objective in my care and treatment of Earl.

I am Buddhist person.  Not because of what I say, but because of what I do.  I am Buddhist person not because of the preaching or pronouncements of myself, my god or others, but because of the path I walk.  These two dreams helped me to remember what I've known all along but had been distracted from.  Sleep is one of the ultimate forms of meditation, and through dreams, we learn or are reminded of what we already know.

Buddhism to me is much less a form or religion in the common use of the word, and certainly not deist, or dogmatic in anyway, but a method of navigating the great path.  I follow no one, practice no "rituals" other than perhaps meditation if one could call that a ritual, and I choose not to lead.  Buddha teaches that all is illusion, and not to believe in him or what he says, but to find our path to enlightenment and walk it ourselves just as he has done.  Zen Buddhism, which is littered in my remarks above, has only Koans to meditate upon, things to ponder and take from them what we may.  Things like:

"The river tells no lies, yet standing at it's shores the dishonest man still hears them"

and

"If you immediately know the candlelight is fire, the meal was cooked a long time ago."

So there is little or no chance of being locked into dogmatic thinking, or a set of sound bites or bullet points to shout from a position of self importance.  In Zen Buddhist, nothing is a given and everything is possible.  The "four noble truths for example do not exist as things set in stone, but as reminders of a place and time that flavored the thinking and experiences of the person who shared them.  That even the eightfold path as right as it can be, is not the be all and end all of Buddhist experience on the road to the great path.

"All roads lead to the great path, many cross."

And dreams, be they during sleep, or while in deep meditation, can and often do teach . . .

Very nearly a perfect day . . .

I awoke yesterday after seven and a half hours of sleep right through on the dreamland express.  It was nothing short of astonishing.  The effect it had on me was equally stunning.  As I wandered into the Loo the visage in the mirror surprised me.  For those who are fans of Star Trek from back in the 60's, think of the episode "Mudd's Women" kind of stunning.  One night of solid, uninterrupted sleep let me see just how much I've really been missing for the last decade or so.  I even crawled back into bed and got another hour of sleep after that.  Heavenly.  No nightmares to mar the experience.

Oh dear a girl could get used to that!!! I know this one could and hopes to!

So yesterday was also supposed to be really warm and mild before the rains came in today, tomorrow and Tuesday.  Naturally what would be my first thought for a perfect fall day in New England?  Yes, of course a ride!  I've got a one track mind that way.

I know Ohio is not really part of my beloved New England, but it reminds me of it in some very pleasant and surprising ways.  Not the least of which is the fall air and plenty of trees turning different colors.  So my sinister plan for the day was to get up and going earlyish for me, finally try a burger place so many people have said is amazing, and then fly!  Cause you just know flying had to be in there somewhere!

Photo Courtesy The Food Hussy and her review

So, "Five Guys" is a national chain, but they have high standards, offer fresh, hand cut, skin on fries, and wonderful burgers.  I've been hearing about them for a while but only just found out there is one here in Cincinnati.  Curiously enough it's in the top three for the area at number three, and happens to be in a place I feel comfortable with, right in the same shopping center as my local "Whole Foods" so I thought yesterday was a good day.  It's right before the end of the month and  payday but I had just enough scraped together to take myself out for a change.  Plus I have enough food in the house that I can make it till payday.

So "Five Guys" it was.  First surprise was that they encouraged me to spend the extra 20 cents for the plastic drink cup.  Why?  Because I'd never have to buy a drink from them ever again.  Should I go back, and after my first time there, I WILL, I bring the cup and get unlimited refills as long as I own the cup.  Forever...  If' I happen to be out shopping and am thirsty but not in the mood for a burger I said?  Come on it, it's your cup, and our rule is it should never have to be empty.  What if I go to a Five Guys in Colorado Springs, Colorado or Oakland Bay California I asked.  Same rule she said, your cup should never be empty!  Just like that.  So I ordered a burger with cheese and a bunch of vegetables on it, and a small fry.  She took my money, handed me my cup and receipt and said enjoy your meal ma'am!

Few minutes later my number was called while I was sipping some lemonade, and I got handed this huge bag.  Small fry my arse!  Imagine three large fries from say McDonald's or Wendy's and that's what was in my bag along with this frankly enormous burger.  I carefully opened it up and aside from the serious amounts of veggies I had them put on it, was REAL cheese and TWO burgers.  Turns out their regular burgers are DOUBLES by default.  Unlike other chain restaurants, they don't skimp with, or charge more, for the extras!  So I wound up eating half of it and saving the rest for after my ride.  And the epic fries?  Sprinkled them with Malt vinegar and ate about a quarter of them.  The rest I took for after the ride and dinner.  So two and a half meals and a truly bottomless drink cup, and I'd say this was money well spent!  The fries were fresh out of the fryer, hot, crisp, and oh so yummy!  To be fair, they are not at all unlike Peen Stations award winning fries which is another local sub place that has awesome food.  Anyway, the fries themselves are mana from loving food Gods.  Really.

Little Miami Scenic Trail

Then I set out for Loveland Ohio figuring I'd go try out the trail and see if all the hill work I've been doing has made a difference yet.  Plus I needed to get rid of some of what I drank and I knew they had bathrooms right off the trail.  So the bathrooms where interesting, and quite unexpected.  First of all it seems they never close. Second the stalls had these rustic wooden doors, but the toilets themselves were an anachronism.  In stark contrast with the rest of the structure, these gleaming white beauties where lidless.  So that should a bloke forget himself and wander into our side, he couldn't forget to put the seat back down when done.  They were and inserting shape  that I can only imagine were also in the mens rooms.  Long front to back, but narrow to make sitting without a lid quite comfortable, and very little chance for men folk to tinkle on the seat.  Finished in there, washed my hands, and then got Serenity off her birth on Jumper one, put on my gloves, bit my preflight and set off for a quiet, comfortable ride in the fall air.

Now I've ridden this trail a number of times before, but this was my first trip in the fall.  Winding along the Little Miami River it follows an old railway line from the bygone days of steam.  So much so that on a previous trip in a spot where the pavement was worn by time and thousands of riders, you can actually see the top of a piece of steel rail.  Anyway, the ride is scenic, peaceful, and of so lovely any time of year, but so much more today with the trees on both sides of the trail, and the river, thousands of different colors!  My plan was to ride out ten miles (which would put me around South Lebanon Ohio) and then turn around and ride back.  This scenic, peaceful, well maintained stretch of trail while not nearly as complex as climbing into the rockies, isn't exactly flat either, and while the grade change is only a 100 feet or so vertically, it's regular, so it's a decent work out as you keep riding up and down hills, over and over.  Some of them are just kind of seemingly long endless climbs.  At least to those of us badly out of shape and over weight.

So that gives you a general feeling for what the elevation change looks like.  For a closer, more interactive look at where and how the elevation changes, just click on either the profile, or the map above to be taken over to my DailyMile.com profile page for the ride. 

The ride up was relaxed, pleasant, and I even slowed up a time or two to ride along other riders and chat.  Especially since one of the women riding along said "Oh sure, make this look easy, Ms. Speedy" as I went by.  As I came up on her six I noticed she was pedaling with the arches of her feet and looked like she was laboring and lagging behind the two guys she was riding with.   Now I'm no-one's expert on cycling, but I do know some things from trial and error that can made a big difference.  One of those that is oh so important is seat height and foot position.  The other is some decent padded gloves, which cuts down on hand and arm numbness on longer rides.  I'd also notice as I was coming up behind her that she was swinging her arms, which I used to do in the days before gloves.  It helps restore circulation and feeling when your arms go numb.  So I slowed down and matched her speed and said three things that will make a dramatic difference your rides are a good set of padded gloves, bring your seat up just about an inch, and get some decent electrolyte replacement additive and a water bottle and cage.  So we chatted a bit until we caught up to the guys she was riding with and I suggested to the boys they ride WITH her, not all they way out in front.  She was all excited about the few changes I suggested and started telling the guys about them as I bid them a good day and kept going on my way.

By the time I hit South Lebanon my internal clock rang, so I stopped a moment to check time, distance and remaining daylight.  Since my trip for a burger, and the indirect sightseeing route I took to Loveland got me a late start, I was concerned about riding back in the dark.  Mainly because while they are few, there ARE some road crossings and I didn't want to borrow trouble.  Wisdom being the better part of valor and all, I decided not to push on to the ten out I'd planned, I hit stop on CardioTrainer and was oh so pleased to see that for the first time ever, I'd managed an average pace of 12.2 miles per hour.  I know that doesn't sound like much to some of my friends who ride way above that, but for me it was a bit of victory!  Especially given the fact that it felt like a relaxed ride in the country!  With Sunset only twenty some minutes away, I reset my flight computer and started back, determined to push myself slightly harder to see if I could beat my pace.  40 some minutes later as I pulled to a stop behind the Jumper, I again hit stop and there it was.  I'd maintained a 12.5 mile per hour average pace!  Victory!

Which of course all the intentional hill work I've been doing in the park has paid handsome dividends!  As I saddled up and headed home it struck me how it was very nearly a perfect day.  Only thing that could have made it better?  If I'd made my ten full out and back miles.  There's always next weekend right?

Gear and staying fit . . .

So this is going to be the first of a number of posts where I talk about some of the gear related to one of my loves, which just happens to be a great way to stay fit.  I cycle for fitness, for pleasure, for fun, and to get away from things that are bothering me for a while.  When I get on Serenity and get moving, I'm leaving calories and problems behind me, taking the time to really be present while riding, focused on what I'm doing and soaking every last bit of pleasure out of a ride.

That said, I want to be safe, and careful.  I want, should God forbid something horrible to happen and I cannot speak for myself, some way for first responders to get to know me some.  I don't have any significant life threatening issues that require me to wear a medical alert ID, and frankly, they just don't have enough information on them.  There are any number of different ways to address identification and notification information, including of course carrying a wallet, but like most people working out, I don't want to carry a wallet with me.  Both from a standpoint of the extra stuff to carry, and the risk of having it stolen.  I have an ICE (In Case of Emergency) entry in my gphone, but again, should it be stolen or damaged again I'd be in trouble.

So while I was looking into getting a new bike, I came across a product in a bike shop in San Fransisco called RoadID.  Actually it's a series of products for athletes that serve as identification when one is out doing whatever one does, be it running, jogging, walking or in my case, cycling.  It's inexpensive, very lightweight, comes in a number of formats and provides optionally very serious and secure detailed information about one in times of need.  I started out with the Interactive Sport Wrist Band Road ID and wear it pretty much anytime I leave the house.  With the Interactive version, first responders, doctors and law enforcement will be able to call, or logon online to the service that securely manages my information.  Like who to notify, what my Drivers License number is, what Medications I'me taking and how often, who my Doctors are and how to reach them, as well as my Health Insurance ID and whatever else I feel like putting in there.  One simple wrist or ankle band, or a little pouch that connects to my shoes or inside my helmet has all the information that I'd normally have in my wallet.  I hope never to need to have it used, but I rest a bit easier knowing that God forbid the absolute worst happen, I'm not just some Jane Doe in a fridge somewhere.

So like I say, I started with the wrist ID back a while ago, but a conversation with a friend had me thinking.  RoadID will work if the first responders see it, think to look at it, and both to connect to the service and pull my records.  What if however they don't notice it or think to follow up on the information it can provide them access to other than my name?  So I thought about getting involved in educating first responders to be aware of the ID and to know to look for it.  I may still do that, but I realized there is one universal piece of identification that professionals recognize on sight and no to look at.  The age old Military "Dog tag!"  First Responders, Doctors, Law Enforcement all know what a Dog Tag is, and that it usually identifies the wearer.

And thus, my second RoadID purchase the FIXX ID!  Nice normal military Dog Tag that anyone will see and recognize in an instant, but a 21st century version that is connected to my existing interactive identification on the secure server.  One profile that both my IDs connect to.  Wear it around my neck, tucked into my bra and off I go!

Chuck and the kindness of strangers...

Karma is defined in many different ways by many different people.  One of the common short descriptions is that what you send out in terms of energy you will get back.  The whole idea of kindness to complete strangers for no reason than it's nice to be nice.  Love they neighbor and all that if you will.

Seems because I have some how managed to heal and miraculously remain an otherwise out going, friendly, kind sort of person, I tend to act like a buglight.  Folks seem to notice me, and gravitate toward me like I'm a small stellar body.  You know, gravity and all that.

Of late I've been running laps on the streets near my house that take me through several small towns.  As I ride, I'm focused on what I'm doing, but because of that gravity, people notice me and I wind up with a cheering section.  Even riding on surface streets.  One such local has been cheering me on and counting my laps as I go flying by.  He hollers across the street, I smile and wave, and keep going.

With the days getting shorter, the darkness of twilight coming sooner, my last laps of the day are often well into dusk.  Saturday as I was making my second lap around, my cheering section had crossed the street and he tried to get me to stop for a moment.  "Next lap" I said as I flew past noticing he was holding something bright and shiny in his hands.

So on the next laps I pulled onto the sidewalk where he was sitting and said "Hi, are you okay?"  He said yes he was fine and handed me this day glow yellow safety belt.  "My Son wore this when he was an SF and I don't know how to adjust it, but I thought you could probably use it.  I worry that you'll get hit out there riding like a woman with a purpose."  So I thanked him, asked if he was sure he wanted to part with it, and when he said yes, proceeded to adjust it to fit and put it on.  So we chatted a bit, exchanged names, brief histories, that kind of thing.  Polite, friendly conversation.  He said that I amazed him, riding by like that going around the neighborhood.  Turned out he though I was running short little loops in the handful of blocks right there.  He was floored when he found out just where I was riding and remarked he'd probably die if he tried that.  That he was thinking of getting a bike, but not doing anything like I was.

I assured him that a few short months ago it took my almost an hour, where I fell over sever times, stopped and sat for a good long time to catch my breath, and got pretty bruised up trying to do two miles around the lake.  Told him that I've been working my way up, and that now I can do ten miles in under and hour and often do more than that.  That he could do it too and that it was fun and so good for ones health.

His name is Chuck, and he didn't want to see me get hurt.  Complete stranger that is now not so much a stranger.  Seems I'm not the only one who tends to practice random kindness and senseless acts of beauty.  I kinda like that and thought I'd share!

Well, it finally happened . . .

. . . after 730 miles since March 27th Serenity got a flat.  Thankfully it was in the parking lot of my house.  So it's not like I had to walk far to get home.  Not like I was going to have to nurse an injured comrade along as we walked miles back to the barn.  Not even like I had to call AAA, though I don't know if it covers me when I'm on my bike...  :)

SO I took her upstairs and set about finding out what the problem was and deciding how to fix it.  Okay, yes, it was a given the tire was completely flat and the only thing to do is either repair or replace either the tire and tube, or just the tube.  I had a patch kit so that if it was something small, I'd be able to patch the tube and go from there, but I didn't have a pump which would only get me so far.  First thing to do was look for any obvious, easily visible signs of problems.  What I found I'd say more than covers that and then some.  A frakin staple, a fairly sizable one at that, stuck deep into the tire.  So as you can see on the right, we know exactly why the tire was flat now.  Thankfully, this kind of damage isn't something that requires I replace the tire, because those are fifty bucks a each the ones that came with the bike.  In this case, I can patch or replace the tube, and go from there.  Which brings us to the wisdom Asa Salas shared over on Team Estrogen about flat tires.  She wrote in part;

"You want to see a trick?" I asked. I took the wheel, and before he could hand me the levers, I zipped the tire off the rim.

"How did you do that?" he said.

The article, which is very well written, goes into how exactly to get a tire off without tools.  No levers, no fuss, muss or bother.  Honestly it's a long, long way from the old days.  Last time I had a flat was over 20 years ago, and I used to keep a bunch of tools with me just to be able to get the thing repaired.  Now of course back in those days the wheel bolted into the frame, and just to get it off required wrenches.  Now, since I bought a decent bike, the wheels come with a quick release to make it easy to get them off the bike.  What was more to the point with the fact that Asa explained how to get the tire off the wheels without the use of tire levers.  Now that is a blessing.  Especially given the frustration that levers used to represent.  Not just having to keep them in a pouch on the bike with others tools, patch kit, spare tube, frame pump and so forth, there's also the annoyance of fighting with the tire levers themselves.  

So while I was thrilled to have found Asa's article early on, I was in no real rush to find out.  Now however it seemed a perfect time.  I had a patch kit, and despite Asa's suggestion to replace the tube and patch the punctured one later, I figured I'd try to accelerate the process some and change it in place.  So, the air already out of the tire I took to following Asa's advice for taking the tire off and pulled the tube out to patch it.  So I carefully slide the tube out from under the tire leaving the staple in the tire so I'd have a good idea where the holes are.  I followed Asa's steps to gently get pull the tire off the rim and slide the tube out.  Cleaned the tube surface, but the vulcanizing glue on the tube and let it dry.  Applied the patch, removed the staple and set about putting it back together.  A good exercise in why Asa was right, and that her technique works flawlessly.

So when I got it pumped up, and the tire seated on the rim I let it sit for a while to see if the patch was holding.  And this is where I learned that Asa was right.  Swap out the tube and play with the patch later!  The tube wasn't holding air.  Which of course meant I had to start over, this time of course I had to pull the wheel and tire/tube assembly off the bike and replace the tube this time.  So once again I got to use Asa's trick, and this time removed the damaged tube and replaced it with a new one.  Put the tube and tire back on the rim, again following Asa's technique and inflated the tire.  Perfect!  Simply perfect!  Serenity and I are back on the trails and adding more miles toward my goal of reaching 1000 by the end of October.  As of this writing, I've got six weeks, and 235 miles to go.  Given that each of the last two months I turned over 200 each, I'm in good shape.  Well, I'm on track to meet or even exceed my goal, shape?  Well that's part of why I'm riding now isn't it? 

In any case following Asa's guidelines the right way, it took almost no time to get the tire off, the damaged tube out, the new tube in, pumped up and put back on the bike and locked down.  Like I said, prefect.  So next I'm going to get one of those wonderful little CO2 tire inflater and an under seat pouch to keep a spare tube and the inflater and I won't have to worry getting flats while out riding ever.  Peace of mind that is well worth the price of some extra gear eh?

There is no winter . . .

An old Russian proverb keeps coming to mind especially given the last few months.

"In the kingdom of hope there is no winter."

Which is amusing considering this is a kingdom I am fairly new to.  For the majority of my life, suffering simply was an inexorable force that ground away at one's soul until one succumbs to the pain.  I countered this for so many years with cold hard Vulcan Logic and the ability to reach a point of stillness that scared cats.   Seriously, I could and commonly did win staring contests with cats because it was something to do and it so unnerved them.  That and sneaking up on cats to spook them was really the limit to my cruelty back in those days, though I should be clear, I wasn't really me then.

The woman you've come to know here was always hidden away in fear and terror, and this "machine" that stood a post between me and the rest of the world followed without question the prime directive which was to keep me from harm.  There was, in those days, no hope, no feelings to speak of, nothing so much as the welcome darkness of the hide and the waiting.  It was as I've come to understand it a perfectly normal, if not completely healthy, response to Trauma I suffered at the hands of my father.  I was five and what I had been assured was going to be a simple, open conversation flared over into unspeakable violence that caused me to want to die.  Yeah, five years old and suicidal, so not good.  Anyway I "created" this person to stand between me and my father, to protect me from ever having to go through anything like that again.

"Protect and Serve" however only worked in so much as I was able to leave life to this carefully constructed simulation of a human being that made defying the laws of physics seem trivial.  I only wish I was kidding.  This soldier, MY soldier, was incredible.  Tough, powerful, unflappable, untouchable, immune to pain or anything else that could harm either of us.  And devoid of any real emotion, body language, facial expressions, anything.  With a command of rhetoric, logic, and an understanding of my father that could be used as a weapon.

Anyway, that only worked so far, and as I began coming out of my hide and giving him time off, I began a death of a thousand steps.  It lead eventually to me on the floor of the "home" Earl and I had shared for years "in chains" trying to summon the strength to go upstairs and quietly take my own life.  Again.  That "machine" had done what it could, but I was in so far over my - our? - heads that eventually there was only so much that could be done and I was on my own.  That "person" I'd created died standing a post.  Sacrificed everything for a chance that I'd be safe and free.  I still have some issues there.

Be it fate, bad timing, or whatever, I managed then to embark on another journey that lead me here.  A journey toward survival, and astonishingly enough, HOPE of all things.  In talking to a friend recently I was able to narrow down exactly how and when I found hope in my life.  I'm not completely certain the dynamics of it, but I am however certain it has it's hooks into me so to speak, and that it exists.  In meditations upon Entropy I've even found something so breathtaking that I'm still working on putting it to words.

But lets get back to hope.  First of all I can say without question, and as a matter of simple logic it unquestionably has to exist.  We all know without question that despair, or suffering (Dukka) exists.  Or at least I and many people I know, are certain suffering exists.  Suffering, depression, pain, or whatever you call it eventually leads to despair. Having been there, I have no doubt despair exists.  So one might then say that in winter, the kingdom of hope can not be seen.  In fact if you look it up, the very definition of despair is "A Complete Loss of Hope" ergo the entire existence of despair is tied completely to hope.  Like Good and Evil it is functionally and logically impossible for one to exist without the other.  For those who are of a more scientific persuasion, let's look at it this way.

The Law of Conservation of Energy states that energy cannot be created or destroyed, but can change its form.

The total quantity of matter and energy available in the universe is a fixed amount and never any more or less.

So, were we to endeavor to erase despair from the universe, we know than we cannot remove it, but only work to change it's form.  What form would that take?  Why hope of course.  So lets look at that for a moment shall we?  We know that common water molecules can exist in many states, and that changing those states is a simple process.  Energy is either added to, or taken from the water molecules to change it from a liquid to a gas, or from a liquid to a solid.  Heating water adds energy to the water, excites the atoms which then expand and take on a gaseous state.  Conversely, cooling water removes energy, by slowing atomic activity which causes it to expand and become a solid.

Wait, WHAT?!  Did she just said that water, regardless of what state it changes to, and whether energy is added or removed, expands?  How is that possible?  Anyone knows when you heat something it expands, and when you cool it it contracts.  Maybe I read that wrong, clearly she meant to say something else right?

No dear reader, that wasn't a typo, and I did not misspeak.  Water has some unique properties and behaviors associated with it, chief among them a blatant disregard for conventional responses to heating and cooling.  It is in fact one of very few molecules that does this.  Sure, as you lower it's temperature (slowing atomic activity and thus removing energy) it contracts to a certain point.  But at 4 degrees Celsius or 39.2 degrees Fahrenheit it begins to expand again. So it does in fact expand to change states in either direction.  By all means if you doubt this, look it up.  It is this very property of water that makes even mountain eventually turn to dust.  What is it the song says, "Solid stone is just sand and water baby, sand and water, and a million years gone by."

So, let's wander back to despair and hope shall we?  The's say for argument that at a state of balance (rest) one has neither hope, nor despair, and since we know from experience that removing energy, leads to despair, adding energy can push one back towards hope.  Despair is often accompanied by such things as depression, lack of energy, and so forth.  Ergo, balance is lost, and despair expands to engulf everything.  All hope is lost.  So, then we need to add energy to despair to change it's state to either a liquid state (neither despair or hope) or really raise it's temperature further and turn it into a gas.  A state where the heavy solid feeling of despair is replaced by one of lightness, of freedom, of dare I say it, hope?  At this point Hope then, like water, once again expands to fill the void left by the "removal" of despair.  Or from a negative state, to a positive one energetically.

Interesting, so it's NOT just water that expands to fill a volume of space when changing from one state to the other in either direction.  Are you with me so far?  If so, then read on...

So, how then to we change the state of despair to one of hope?  If we treat it like water, we add energy.  The question becomes of course how to do that.  Especially when one feels like there is no hope, and all is suffering and pain with the associated lack of energy one finds there.

To be honest I cannot, and shall not attempt to speak for all the possible ways to do this, I have however figured out what it was for me, how and when energy was added and I moved from a state of life threatening despair to having a little taste of hope.  And that, well that's kinda like winning the lottery.  At least it was for me.  To be fair, hope snuck up on me and caught me completely by surprise.  Which is, in part, why it's taken me so long to figure out what happened and when.

To full appreciate what, how and when things happened for me, I need to once again backtrack.  That machine whose primary job it was to protect and serve?  Well that was a full time kinda thing, and it spilled over into the rest of the world.  Anyone that needed to be served and protected was part of the job description.  Part and parcel to that task was endless study of anything that might help.  Everything from Martial arts, to Meditation (especially since Sensei was almost fanatical about meditation) to psychology and medicine became part of the job.  When I was eight we were in the station wagon late one night on the way back from a trip to Canada.  My Mom got sick, and while my Dad was losing his furry little mind, I herded my brother and sister away from the car, and into the rest stop where I called 911.  My Sister was six, my brother four, and my father was effectively useless, almost as if we didn't exist.  We'd been planing on spending the night in Plattsburg, but not like this.  Long story short, as we were driving along in the rain, my Mom had her first Grand Maul epileptic seizure and it took us all by surprise.  We spent the night in the hospital in Plattsburg as they got her stabilized, gave her chance to recover, and figure out what had happened.

Anyway, I studied like a a child possessed, and learned as much as I could about everything.  Eastern mysticism became important because the benefits of meditation became increasingly obvious as it dramatically enhanced my abilities in terms of martial arts.  Sensei taught me the old ways, where meditation was in many ways more important than all the fancy moves.  I learned about Ki, and how it flows through us, and of course as my training progressed, how to channel Ki to a fine point and use it fully in martial arts.  How in meditation one could and should ground and center oneself, to connect with everything around one, to "tune in and turn on" as was a popular saying in the 60s. Ki became a major part of life for me, and gave me great strength.  But even then I didn't really know Ki.  Sensei mentioned time and again that should I chose to follow the path further, I could learn so much more about Ki than it being a tool of a warrior.  How deep states of meditation could bring peace and healing.  How the way of the warrior ultimately was balance on the edge of the sword of Ki.  It could be used for war and destruction, but also for healing and peace.

At the time, that was a lesson I wasn't ready for.  Meditation however stuck with me, breathing and reflection were always there for me and made for an escape from the pain of living.

My thirst for knowledge and tools to make healing and growth possible took on new meaning when the despair was threatening my life.  I'd renewed my studies of hypnotherapy while still with Earl because it was a tool to use to help him heal and grow.  Of course meditation and hypnotherapy were helping me survive the abuse at his hands as well.  I'd managed to get involved with formal education, leading eventually to certification in Hypnotherapy and I was accomplishing great things with it, but it still wasn't quite enough.  Along the way, one of the Nurses I worked with in the hospital wanted to learn more about hypnotherapy and as we spent time talking, she mentioned Reiki and gave me a hands on demonstration, a bunch of sessions in exchange for helping her quit smoking.  Reiki she explained was actually two Japanese words Rei and ki.  Rei for "universal" and Ki for "energy" and that I might want to learn that too.

At the time I filed it away in a corner of my mind and got back to the task at hand, fighting for Earl's and my own life.  There was no way I'd have the time, or be allowed by Earl to spend the money to receive training and certification in Reiki, especially since He still thought Hypnotherapy was mumbo-jumbo bullshit.  His argument was that if I ever managed to get certified in Hypnotherapy, maybe I'd be allowed to look at Reiki.  Yeah, I'm serious, he controlled my life that much.

By the end of 2004 we were in the middle of a horrific divorce and I'd finally managed to take my final and become a College Certified Clinical Hypnotherapist.  That and three bucks would get me on the subway.  I didn't have three bucks for the subway.  I started looking into Reiki finally, because one of the way I'd always distracted myself from how much my life sucked was to throw myself into studying something.  I might not have been able to afford it at the time, but I was bound and determined I'd get to know it really well.  By late 2006 I'd managed to squirrel away just enough money to start working on a formal course of study and certification in Reiki.

Attunement involves opening oneself up to the energy, the "frequencies" as they are sometimes called, and this is often, but certainly not always done by a Reiki Master/Teacher.  It is where the great cost of Reiki certification comes into the picture.  Dr. Usui a lifetime or so ago received attunement in meditation but long before that Reiki had been a closely held secret of Tibetan Monks, who always meditated their way to mastery of Reiki.  Though the Monks didn't call it Reiki.  Dr. Usui however saw no reason for this to be a secret kept away from the world, and started helping others become attuned.  Sometimes later, money became involved to where these days it can cost upward of ten thousand dollars to become attuned and certified.  I wish I was kidding.  Thankfully the price has been coming down and one can get Attuned and certified these days for around 1000 dollars, there are even reputable, courses that will cost significantly less than this and will give one a method to attune oneself.

Anyway, early 2007 was my first of many attunements, and a conscious decision to open myself up to a wider range of energy, and hopefully use it to help myself heal.  That I could eventually use it for other people, and or chose to teach was nice if it ever came to that, but I was focused more on healing myself for a change. It was, for me, an amazing experience.  That first attunement alone started changes in me that are still unfolding.  Progress and growth that enabled me to finally escape the impossible living situation I was in and move to Ohio.  Over the course of time I've continued my studies and growth, and have long since received full Reiki Master/Teacher attunements and Certification.

Reiki is energy, universal energy, or Ki.  Master Yoda would call it the force.  Han Solo has said 'Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side kid."  Whatever one wishes to call it however it is the very same Ki I started learning all those years ago from Sensei, just taken out a bunch of steps.  The Chinese call it Chi or Qi, and the discipline that brings healing and grow is known as Qigong.    As I've said it is much older than western thinking on healing and growth.

In simplest fashion, attunement brings with it a flow of energy not previously available.  Energy that raises awareness, engenders healing at multiple levels, and allows one to grow.  It raises one's energy levels in ways even I'd not thought possible.  It is, as it turns out, the focal point of the shift in my own journey, and when I started moving away from despair and back to the point of having some hope.  So I'm living on the outskirts of the kingdom of hope now, and God willing I'll not soon be forced to move out.  If anything I'm looking to move in closer as I can!  So, early 2007 was when my energy levels started to shift, and hope became real for me again, all thanks to Reiki.

Yay!!! Finally, the powers that be . . .

. . .have added automatic blog spam comment catching!  So all those idiotic Chinese characters and sneaky hyperlinks go right into the trash!  I'm so happy!  Thank you Google!!!  So this is a short thank you and now it's time for me to catch some sky!