Kaleidoscope Mind
Saturday, August 13, 2016
With each movement, each head turn, each tear that fell, it was if my world had evolved into a continually rotating kaleidoscope of shapes, colors, and sounds. From each side more fragmented pieces appeared and escape did not seem possible.
That which seemed real was not. The never ending bombardment of every imaginable shifting thought pushed me further into the spiraling technicolor tube of terror. I could feel the motion of the sea with each torturous turn.
My head was left spinning, not one cohesive thought could be formed. Each twist of the plot was more devastating than the previous. My eyes stung, and my head pounded, from the rivers that fell freely drenching my skin, my clothing, my sheets.
As evening crept upon me the tormenting events had not ceased and I saw only one way to clear my mind, shake out the poison, and once more see rationally, and that was on my motorcycle.
The weather was perfect. The sun had not yet set, the air was warm, and the bike would take every shred of concentration, and that, I hoped, would quell the sounds, the colors, and the shocks, of the days developments.
I exchanged my faded cut off shorts for a pair of riding jeans, pulled on socks and my boots, gathered my blonde locks into several hair ties, and headed to the garage to begin what I hoped would be a journey that would bring clarity.
As soon as I started the magnificent machine to warm up as I continued readying for the ride I felt the clutter start to settle. I zipped my fringed chaps, put on my helmet, gloves, and riding glasses. With each item I gained more mental courage.
I felt my chest heave with the deep breath I took as I swung my leg over the saddle and when I stood up the bike, put it in gear, and rolled on the throttle, even more fell into place.
I was at home, I was at peace, and my spirit was ready to soar. As I wove my way through the gorgeous Oregon countryside every thought was pushed aside except for those of the beauty of the State in which I reside and how blessed I was to be able to see the amazing handy work of my Creator.
I didn't rush through the ride. I took my time taking in as much as my mind could hold, the horses grazing, the rolling pastures, the peaked mountains, and the acres, and acres, of vineyards. Around each corner was something new to behold, and one more thing to push the chaos of the day from my being.
I was one with my bike, one with the road, and found peace within myself. The heaviness of the world had lifted and been replaced with gratitude and thankfulness. I stopped by a quaint little sidewalk cafe and had the most delicious dish of paella along with a simple glass of water. I chuckled as I listened to the conversations of those around me, and shook my head at the pretentious group to my right.
I was going to make it. It amazes me I have a passion that has the ability to alter perceptions, feelings, and thoughts, for the better and allow a respite from the never ending conflicts, and complications that life can throw out of the blue.
For several hours I was allowed freedom of serious thought, and it was in that time I realized adulthood is just not something in which I always want to partake.
That which seemed real was not. The never ending bombardment of every imaginable shifting thought pushed me further into the spiraling technicolor tube of terror. I could feel the motion of the sea with each torturous turn.
My head was left spinning, not one cohesive thought could be formed. Each twist of the plot was more devastating than the previous. My eyes stung, and my head pounded, from the rivers that fell freely drenching my skin, my clothing, my sheets.
As evening crept upon me the tormenting events had not ceased and I saw only one way to clear my mind, shake out the poison, and once more see rationally, and that was on my motorcycle.
The weather was perfect. The sun had not yet set, the air was warm, and the bike would take every shred of concentration, and that, I hoped, would quell the sounds, the colors, and the shocks, of the days developments.
I exchanged my faded cut off shorts for a pair of riding jeans, pulled on socks and my boots, gathered my blonde locks into several hair ties, and headed to the garage to begin what I hoped would be a journey that would bring clarity.
As soon as I started the magnificent machine to warm up as I continued readying for the ride I felt the clutter start to settle. I zipped my fringed chaps, put on my helmet, gloves, and riding glasses. With each item I gained more mental courage.
I felt my chest heave with the deep breath I took as I swung my leg over the saddle and when I stood up the bike, put it in gear, and rolled on the throttle, even more fell into place.
I was at home, I was at peace, and my spirit was ready to soar. As I wove my way through the gorgeous Oregon countryside every thought was pushed aside except for those of the beauty of the State in which I reside and how blessed I was to be able to see the amazing handy work of my Creator.
I didn't rush through the ride. I took my time taking in as much as my mind could hold, the horses grazing, the rolling pastures, the peaked mountains, and the acres, and acres, of vineyards. Around each corner was something new to behold, and one more thing to push the chaos of the day from my being.
I was one with my bike, one with the road, and found peace within myself. The heaviness of the world had lifted and been replaced with gratitude and thankfulness. I stopped by a quaint little sidewalk cafe and had the most delicious dish of paella along with a simple glass of water. I chuckled as I listened to the conversations of those around me, and shook my head at the pretentious group to my right.
I was going to make it. It amazes me I have a passion that has the ability to alter perceptions, feelings, and thoughts, for the better and allow a respite from the never ending conflicts, and complications that life can throw out of the blue.
For several hours I was allowed freedom of serious thought, and it was in that time I realized adulthood is just not something in which I always want to partake.
2 comments:
Love this.
Nothing like a little wind therapy!
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