I joined a biker gang!
This weekend I purchased my first pair of Doc Martens. Last week, my first motorcycle jacket. A few months ago, an Evil Kinevil scooter helmet.
Earlier this year, Jamie crashed my car. It was a fated, good accident. Nobody was hurt, my old car went to metal heaven, and I got a nice sum from my insurance company.
Except I decided I didn't want to be a proper adult and replace my car. And we have a camper-van. And I've always wanted a vespa - so while I was away visiting a mentor in April, Mr J got up to his usual mechanical tricks and purchased me an old vintage vespa - presenting it to me proudly in the back of the camper upon picking me up from the airport. What a gem!
I was so excited - dream come true! Avoidance of adulting officially continues!
Except... I can't kick start the damn thing.
And it's quite heavy.
And I need to learn to change gears with my left hand instead of my foot like the ones I learned to ride as a kid.
Oh, and then there's the wind in Warrnambool, and the rain.
And all those stories you hear.
And the big trucks on the highway.
And I can't go very fast on this bike (not that I want to) which means those trucks will be speeding past me.
And the fact I don't have any protective gear... or a motorcycle license.
Or even a Victorian drivers license because I never switched it over, which means I have to either change my license to Victorian, and get my license, and then switch it to NSW when I move states next year... or get my license in NSW.
I have my uncle in my head giving me an annoying lecture about protective gear and what he'd say to me if he was my dad...
And the story from my Mum about how my Dad lost his cousin on the back of a motorbike when she was too young...
Maybe I should just go get a car.
It's really all just a bit scary, and too many step when you think about it like that.
Except, what about the fact I always knew I was going to own a vespa, and how good it makes me feel when I ride it?
What about knowing that I'd rather live my life (safely) in a way that makes me feel alive than being scared all the time?
How about focusing on the fact it can be easy, and knowing this is just another one of those things I actually NEED to do, because I want it, and at the same time, I feel scared?
Kinda like anything. Resistance feels like reality. Ego wants to keep me safe (and yeah, there's truth there too - it's dangerous if you think about it), and all those very accurate reasons it's all too hard can feel like a damn good argument for doing the "normal" thing.
Oh, except for one thing.
I'm not normal.
Nothing about me is normal.
I'm not even interested in normal. (Maybe you can relate ~Contact.FirstName~!)
And when I think about the big picture part of it all, all of a sudden, all that other stuff, just dissipates into dust.
I'm here to live. Fully. End of story.
Often, fully living requires awkwardness, messing up, failing, being uncomfortable, scared, vulnerable, learning to use your hands in a different way or your voice in a different way, frightened of possible death and certain efforts put into place that are almost obnoxious to the idea of "normal".
I'll take two, thanks!
Because when I zoom out of my fear and look at the big picture, the big picture lights me up more than the current list of to do items and decisions and fears overwhelm or scare me. That's how I know, even with all that.. It's still a hell yes. I'll deal.
So yeah. I bought some docs on the weekend, because next week, after my birthday, I'm flying to NSW to run my 2-day event Play Bigger, Feel Better And while I'm there, I'm going to get my motorcycle license. And I need a pair of closed-toe, lace-up shoes to ride, and protect me.
So far, my biker gang is just Jamie and I, and our neighbour Rhett who we ride to the coffee shop with on Sundays sometimes.
It's a really small gang.
You know, not everyone is going to agree with you, or like you, or want to be a part of your gang.
But the more you live fully, it won't matter. Your people will come out of the cracks of the woodwork and fly across the world to hang out. And when you hang, it will be like a Sunday morning vespa ride to the cafe with the wind in your face.
So many people will wish they did the same - but so many aren't willing to stay the course and dance through the awkward fire to get there. Unwilling to deal with the awkward questions or remarks. Too afraid of what their loved ones would say. Of disapproval.
What they don't know is, it only looks like a fire when you're on the wrong side of it.
On the other side lies all the freedom of having everything you ever wanted, and it's easy. And you're not alone, either.
But I'm preaching to the converted, aren't I? You know this, don't you...