The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

and sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveller, long I stood

and looked down one as far as I could

to where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

and having perhaps the better claim

because it was grassy and wanted wear;

though as for that, the passing there

had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

in leaves no feet had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --

I took the one less travelled by,

and that has made all the difference

We seem to have a thinking that the grass is always greener on the other side. Our general discontent is inherent we seem to be jealous of others. We are born with this discontent and it dies with us. This sense of discontent never leaves us because we are always being placed at a crossroads. We have to make choices and every choice is irrevocable.

We need to learn to take the road less travelled, be an individual and live the life we choose. Stop regretting that we didn't take the other road. Appreciate the road you are on and look for the hidden treasure that are there.

Making Every Moment Count

Managed to get out for a ride this past weekend with two friends. Hard to believe it is the end of November and we are still able to ride for a few hours.

As motorcycle enthusiasts we have learned to make everyday count. Appreciating all that the ride offers and sharing the laughs while forgetting our troubles. What an escape if only for a few hours.

Doors

Some doors are better left unopened. But you usually don't realize that until you're on the otherside. We all make mistakes comes with the territory. Still no reason to live your life in one room. The doors we choose to open determins the path of our lives be they brave, angry, foolish, painful. We are defined by what we do, by where we go, and  you can't go anywhere without opening a door.

From my Window

Sitting here at work looking out my window wanting  to feel the wind in my face. Nice sunny bright days are always difficult for a rider without their bike. Longing to escape to the beautiful scenery that a ride offers. Getting lost in an array of vibrant colors.

The rumble of the pipes are hypnotic pulling me into the present moment as if I had no choice, here in this moment all my worries about yesterday and apprehension about the future give way and I am truly alive. I am left to experience everything yet being distracted by nothing.

Even recalling some of the past rides I am able to clear my mind and rejuvenate my soul.

Forsynthia

These grey melancholia days of spring are at times overwhelming.

The dampness chills to the bone.

The relentless wind whipping away at you.

A poet once said April is the cruelest month and days like this I believe him.

In this damp, grey, melancholia world there you sit in a vibrante yellow.

A splash of hope of what is to come.

Forsythia, you chase away the sadness like rays of sunshine growing out of the soil.

Belt Drive Betty's Blog

Belt Drive Betty's Blog

Sheldonism 101 Leftovers

Trying to wrap my mind around the notion of blogging. I have realized that not every blog will be a mind altering spiritual revelation. In fact this blog entitled "Sheldonism 101 leftovers" is nothing  more than perhaps a rant about my food  idiosyncrasies.

First let's go over a few vocabulary words.

Sheldonism: things the TV character Sheldon Cooper might say or believe. I thinking there is a little bit of Sheldon in everyone.

Mysophobic: the pathological fear of contamination and germs.

Leftovers: the uneaten edible remains of a meal sometimes hard for a mysophobic to digest.

After a long day of work followed by a 2 hour staff meeting and a 2 hour Saddlebag meeting I was looking forward to finally eating my supper. On the menu was left over chicken breast with stuffing and rice. My mouth was watering as I pulled into the driveway. Eagerly greeted by my ADHD German Shepherd, I tossed him a few treats and said that you'll have to wait until I eat before we go outside.
Standing in front of the fridge for a good 2 to 3 minutes scanning each shelf wondering can my dog actually open the fridge now, did he eat my leftovers?

I soon realized that someone put my leftovers in the microwave thinking I would be home at 3pm to eat supper before the meeting. It is now 8:30 pm and my food has been sitting at room temperature for nearly 6 hours. This is a dilemma for a mysophobic person. So I cut up the chicken breast and scrapped it into the dogs bowl along with the stuffing.

My dog now curled up at my feet as I sit here eating my toasted ham sandwich has the audacity to beg for a bite of my sandwich.

 

Not All Who Wander Are Lost

With the riding season now over I am feeling a little lost and there are times I wish I was out on the bike wandering around my island.

Looking back on this past riding season I can easily say that some of the best rides never had a set destination but rather were spent wandering around the island.

Finding other biker to travel with who share a common desire to get lost in all that the grey pavement has to offer has made for one amazing summer.

Yellow Line Therapy

The painted yellow lines are all that I need to see; they are all that I trust; they are all that matter. Somewhere between the excitment of exploring new paths and the banality of one road after another, the strugle to define one's self becomes easier.

It is here in the vast expanse of nothing, when all that is before you is a single road, you are set free. No longer overwhelmed by choices that have to be made, distractions that need to be dealt with, you are able to come alive, breathing in deeply all that the road has to offer.

Following the painted yellow line is all I need to do to define myself. No choices or distractions; you just follow. There is a sense of spiritual connectedness that comes from riding a motorcycle; the blending of body, machine, and all that nature has to offer. One stretch of kilometer after another bring about a different combination of elements such as feeling the heat of the summer sun on my face, breathing in deeply the sweet scent of freshly cut grass, and the gentle crosswinds pushing me this way.

Out on a single road, following the painted yellow lines brings about an inner peace which my machine pierces through and I consume.