open road
October 23, 2008
it definitely feels like a long minute since i last dropped words for an entry here, even though it has only been a week. and yet. a long week. a complicated week. a smile-creeping-unintended-onto-my-face, kind of week. it was one that stands out in its difference – one in which healing and connection and transformation sauntered in…simply because i had nothing else planned.
well, let me back up. oh, yes, i had plans. huge plans. paid-work kind of plans…the kind of plans that i so need and want more of these days – but alas…at the last minute those plans folded themselves up and walked away…leaving me standing at the threshold of a new week, now stripped completely clear of responsibility, obligation and expectation. so what was i to do…
i crawled back in bed for a few more sleepy hours (it was before 7am on a saturday morning when it all changed…) and then opened up myself to the belief that what was to come in this newly cleared space, would be important, necessary and good.
and oh, how it was! three huge things happened:
first. i rode my motorcycle to and from LA. accompanying a new friend on the way down south…then on my own once i headed back north. and i got to experience LA traffic as well on my bike. splitting lanes. understanding the freedom from gridlock in a way i had only dreamt of since i was 17. i will never drive again in LA…silliness, indeed!…perhaps not really, never. but hey. if a bike is there to avail itself to me, i will ride her happy around the southland…traffic and time and route be damned. and there was something else about this trip that got me. riding along the 1, and then riding back on my own – it all clicked inside me. i get it. in my body, i get it. the lure, the siren’s lure, of the open road. there really isn’t a way to say “no”. i’m hooked. and my next bike is so going to be a sexy sport touring machine…not sure yet which one…but i’m going for the ergonomics. oh yes. it’s necessary.
also. i know i haven’t written much yet about my motorcycle yet here but i will…the prose continues to form. but my bike and i have been on this journey this past year or so…and it has been about transformation, confidence, love and trust. in her, i have (re)learned all of those aspects about life. about me. this trip (re)affirmed them all even more and taught me the beauty in standing on two feet, grabbing corners with two wheels, and steering confidently with not just two hands…but an entire body that has finally become one with the hawk. perhaps even. one with the road.
but that’s not all. the other two things that happened this past week were an unexpected fiery fling that continues to tease my senses, and some unplanned time with one of my sisters that has helped to rock open some necessary epiphanies about my family and me. and yet. i feel like leaving those stories for later…to instead, let the image of my bike flying along the dreamy california coast be the one you sit with today…
and i leave you also with the questions that sit here now with me. if we have the time to pay attention. to step outside of our routines and our plans. what can happen? what will happen? if we simply go with the flow…can we actually hear what the gods are saying? can we uncover the faith we need to follow the signs before us…especially if it means taking the unexpected fork in the road, or cutting a brand new trail…or simply, stopping by the side of the road to smell the flowers blooming there?
diy moto repair
October 14, 2008
when i got a motorcycle last year i told myself i need to figure out how to fix it/maintain it myself…something about this fierce self-reliance kick i’ve been on for awhile now. in getting my bike ready to ride down to LA tomorrow morning for an impromptu, totally unexpected road trip with a new friend, one of the things i needed to do was replace my front brake pads.
i read the manual, got the correct pads, got out my tools…but for some reason it just wasn’t working quite the way as promised. alas. my butchness today had to ask for help…and thankfully a good friend was around to step in and save the day…but not before another friend snapped up a picture of me. getting dirty. showing some leg.
there is just so much to learn…such as how many small, but vital tidbits of information are missing from my bike manual, that there are so many ways to play with a torque wrench, and really, how fun it is to snap on a pair of black (non)latex gloves and grease up moto parts…its comforting to know that my stash of gloves can be so multi-functional!
un espoir epistolaire
October 10, 2008
dear reader:
do you write letters to folks that you never intend to send?
i have an entire file on my computer with letters i have written to people, mostly ex-es and some friends, that tell the story of my anger, my hurt, my confusion and my tears. i have written them to let go – of feelings and questions — that would otherwise taunt my sleep. a friend suggested i write another one last night – one i composed this morning as i lay groggily awake in bed…and i’ve been thinking. if i never intend to send it and the only recipient intended is me, could i expand it’s power by speaking of it here, as a letter within a letter?
where is the power of words that are spun for someone else but are never shared? can language heal through this deeply private communication – one that spills from hand to page and then gets secreted far far away?
letter writing is a powerful tool that authors have used for centuries to speak across the margins of experience and tradition. writing a letter opens the door for reflection in ways i can’t live without. like film, it is about the audience. it is about your reader. knowing someone is reading. believing there are eyes to receive the words you spin.
and i want so much for someone to read the words being formed in my heart. for someone to simply pay attention. to receive what it is i have to say. i am tired of screaming through sound-proof glass…and i am choosing now to see the world outside me…to be my own reader.
i finished the letter today that i wrote to him. and already, my words have changed. my perception is shifting and i am watching the words leap off the page and tumble together like magic iron filings, searching for a place to rest. what i have to say now is something new. as my anger and frustration pull apart, i am finding humility and sobriety slipping in. with this letter, i am letting go. breathing out. i am finding me.
xo. syd.
crushed.
October 7, 2008
to continue my musing on dating and connection, i now turn to the fabulous land of the crush.
we all do it. we all have them…and i love the adaptability and multiplicity of words that can serve as nouns (a crush: i have a crush on him or i’m hanging out with a crush today), verbs (to crush: i’m totally crushing on her!), or adjectives (crushed out: they are so crushed out on each other)…they make communicating so much more fun!
there are so many kinds of crushes to choose from:
the “friend crush”: we’re clear on the being-friends part but love getting all giddy and crushed out on each other. text me more, baby. i love it.
the “distant crush”, aka the “we’ve-never-met crush”: ok. so we’ve never met. maybe i see you everywhere or every now and then. and oh, how i admire you from afar.
the “celebrity crush”: yeah, we’ve never met but damn if you knew how yummy i get inside when i see you on the big screen…
the “i-want-to-throw-you-up-against-a-wall crush”: if that’s not clear enough. there is the other version of this one i am coming to get to know better these days…the “i-want-you-to-throw-me-up-against-a-wall crush”. fuck yeah i’d switch for you.
the “giddy-nervous crush”: just thinking about you makes me all a-flutter inside. being around you makes me forget how to speak, or, damn, even how to walk, at times.
the “flirty crush”: so we may never act on this crush, but, oh, how we flirt!
the “unavailable crush”: you are luscious. distracting. but oh so unavailable. sigh.
the “we’ve-made-out-a-couple-of-times-and-i-want-more crush”: fuck. you so know who you are. mmm.
and finally, the “inappropriate crush”: right. clearly one of my favorites…and that all depends of course on how we define inappropriate…which i believe is a part of what makes it all that more fun.
ok. so maybe those are the kinds of crushes i have, and i’m sure the list is not at all exhaustive – and many can be intertwined to create a more layered crush. and i do love layers!
so, many kinds of crushes then leads to so many ways to engage them…and i am feeling so much like a wide-eyed kid who has just been handed a huge handful of coins to spend in a old fashioned country candy store. wine barrels teeming with all sorts of candy, enticing me to look, touch, and even taste. and i feel like that little kid who had forgotten just how fun this candy store was because he had been keeping himself from going back in for so long, afraid of being overwhelmed with all the options inside.
but here i am. i walked in and i’m not overwhelmed. i’m actually having a lot of fun. a friend laughed at me recently, calling me a “crush monster”…which is probably fairly accurate 
and something happened last week as i spent a few scrumptious days with a long-time crush (other than some yummy soreness and bruising…)…that feels like a lid was wrenched off and all the self-permission to indulge, that i had been hiding away these past few years, came rushing out…and it was, and is, amazing.
a new friend (and yes, i daresay, a crush) and i were texting furiously back and forth late into the night last night, giggling over new crushness, flirty innuendos, vampire sexiness (yes, that does fit in, in any conversation), and ultimately came to the realization that we were in fact, possibly, playing a game that more than just us were involved in. a “competition for the candy”, as he put it, because there have been a lot of crushes flying around this past week in the spaces we have shared (and in those beyond), so, in all of this, it’s been making me think…if it is a game, what are the rules?
which takes me back to my previous ramblings about dating…how can you break the rules if you don’t know what they are in the first place? because, fuck. i like breaking rules. it makes life so much more interesting.
rich kids behaving badly
October 6, 2008
sigh.
i am extremely humbled today as i reflect on this past weekend. i got back last night from this annual conference i attend each year – making money make change – which is a space for young people with wealth to connect, build, support and challenge each other around how to engage authentically with ourselves, communities and the world as allies and partners in creating a more just world that involves a more equitable redistribution of wealth.
and yet. i am sitting here reflecting on how the “spoiled brat” in me took center stage in a certain space and i am being extremely challenged by that. because in realizing how i behaved badly…how i let my privilege be what mattered rather than seeing other people…i am faced with a knowing that i am so one of those bratty kids i complain about and snarl at.
it’s always what we get annoyed with in others that is often part of our own truth, right?
it was in this workshop that i attended – designed and facilitated by three rad progressive social change foundations that are doing local, national and global giving – and a few of us derailed the conversation in some pretty intense ways – speaking to how the conversation and activities they prepared were philosophically not something we could engage with. that our analysis of power and philanthropy were just so much more radical. and all of us in this space who contributed to this “behaving badly” just plain refused to engage.
the facilitators were not pleased, that much was evident – -yet we didn’t seem to care – because we believed we held the higher ground. or whatever the fuck that means. and even though we acknowledged the time and intention they put into creating this workshop space, we walked all over it because our analysis was what mattered…and it has all got me thinking about my role in creating fucked up power dynamics in which the rich kids are demanding what they want and if we don’t get what we want — the types of conversations, our types of “radical” analyses, etc. — they we get pouty, bratty and behave badly. and that is just not OK.
i am embarassed, truthfully, as i sit with this knowing. and i know i need to reach out to the three facilitators and apologize. i want to believe that i have gotten to a point where my class privilege does not get in the way when building cross-class relationships, but i am wrong. it is there. always. and it is my full responsibility to pay attention. to check myself. and to acknowledge the ways in which my “brattiness” reinforces fucked up dynamics and stereotypes…ones i try to distance myself from every day.
i was a rich kid behaving badly this weekend and i am humbled that i have been able to have this experience and hope that the ways in which i move through this experience will help me grow and be able to truly build more meaningful and effective cross-class relationships with others. because ultimately that is what matters to me. to be able to build across class, across race, across gender, across ability, across all the identities, experiences and spaces that make up difference. i want to live in and contribute to a world that is one that honors, respects and values every voice and experience — including mine – and to get there — i am humbled that i learned this weekend just how much more work i need to do in me.
