Saturday, August 17, 2013

Overpass in Columbus

ohio
We sat on the overpass in Columbus, OH waiting to turn left onto the Interstate. Sitting about 4 cars back from the red light, I looked over the road ahead to estimate the traffic I would be joining. Highway was reaching down beside his bike and I wondered if everything was alright.

He turned towards me and handed a lovely purple flower to me that he had picked from the roadside popping up between the slabs of asphalt on the overpass.

Since then, this poignant moment floods my mind a few times a day, his tender gesture done on a whim, reminding me that I am loved and I am not alone.

Two bikers, geared in leather, one offering a purple tiny flower, the other shedding a tear. It doesn't sound all that tough, all that bad ass, does it? But the way I see it, it is one of the toughest things to do. To be genuine and unafraid to show one's true self. It takes a real bad ass to look inside and see what they've run from and covered up their entire lives.

That's what we've done on this Road Pickle. Riding this many miles over this amount of time gives one an incredible amount of time to think, feel, process and learn.

This Road Pickle has been painfully enlightening; at an alarming rate peeling away the walls I've spent my life hiding behind. The same is true for my new husband, who is desperately trying to get his feet under him before uncovering yet another layer of himself. When I met and fell in love with Highway it was only a few months into the relationship that I realized I would have to let my guard down if I wanted to let myself love him. It was the hardest decision I have ever made.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.
Sash-with-daughter
I had spent my life holding this as my theme song. I would sing this to myself if I felt hurt, building those walls back up again. Until Highway, my daughter Olivia and my niece Shelli were the only two who had seen inside my fortress. At times even they had been ousted to the outside, leaving me safe inside, alone. Suddenly I was standing before this man I truly wanted to connect with and had to decide whether I was going to tear the block walls down, or fall in love.

Since that moment these walls, of which I had far more than I realized, have been tumbling down. It seems every day on this Road Pickle I find out even more. Many of these revelations have been joyous, some humorous, and some incredibly painful. Right now I'm struggling with pain.
Sash-with-niece

But I have that moment on the overpass in Columbus to hold onto that gets me through.

Because the most important thing I've learned in 10,000 miles, over 4 months, is the moments we choose to hold in our hearts are the ones which define our lives.

I'll hold my purple flower for now.

Real-biker-chick

7 comments:

  1. I discovered something about those "walls" a few years back. The horrors and pain of life are too great, so we construct those emotional walls to defend ourselves.

    They get built to wall out and protect us from the demons. But in the building of them, unseen, the demons slip inside. When the last block is placed, we find ourselves locked inside, just us and our demons.

    Those who love us and would hold on, are the only ones locked out.

    The lucky ones are those who have someone come along who refuses to be walled out and tears down the wall that no one else could even chip.

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  2. That was a very sweet gesture... It's good you're taking down some of those walls!

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  3. Funny how sometimes you have to leave everything behind to find yourself.

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  4. I live in Cbus... Could have had you over for some BBQ and Yuenglings!:-)

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  5. I like how you summed it up as "the most important moments are those we choose to hold in our hearts". Perfectly said.

    And who says our 'biker' husbands can't have a heart of gold under that leather exterior......

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  6. everyday we choose how we're going to write our story. It's never done for us. We decide which path we'll take. I love the path of the purple flower. Love the road you're traveling now. smooches & hugz

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  7. Sash:

    you are very lucky to have a compassionate partner

    bob
    Riding the Wet Coast

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About Sash


People call me "Sash" because I'm a former beauty queen in my old home town. My father used to ride in an MC which got me interested in the culture. After my last divorce I said "goodbye" to Susie Homemaker and became the rude biker chick I always felt inside. (Read more...)