There’s a song by the band Needtobreathe (actually it was my riding playlist tune of the week on September 17, 2012) called Something Beautiful. The video is quite remarkable. It’s 3 minutes and 47 seconds of smiles, inspiration, and joy. I’ll take that. There are so few places those things are encouraged these days, which is one reason I love writing these posts and sharing content on Facebook. These posts can be sappy, and that’s fine because they’re part of me and that’s how I can be at times. Cori says, “write what’s true Bud”, so that’s what I try to do.
I find those positive feelings out on the road. The wind and feeling of movement have a way of reminding me that my natural state is to be happy and joyful, like a baby lulled to sleep by a drive or in a rocker, movement pacifies. It’s the way we should be; oh sure, sometimes we let life tell us how bad things are, how little we have and how our dreams are in danger of never coming true. We don’t need to give in to that pessimistic view though; we can reject that voice of the world. We can mount up, ride off, write a new page, scribble a new post-it note to ourselves, and slap it on the fridge so we see it in the morning that says “ride, just ride, what comes let stay, what goes let go, and what curls up next to you, wraps itself around you, and builds its house in your heart is yours to keep”.
Motorcycles do that for me. It’s a cleansing experience, riding. I think people forget to notice the beauty of each moment they get to breathe in. I know I do, and every time I realize it I feel a bit silly, as though I’ve blown it, I let a moment go by and didn’t pay attention and now it’s gone, never to come back. Was I in too much of a hurry to listen to my boss tell me a story? Did I hug Devon when she left or just say “see ya’ later”? Did I tell Cori that without her I never would have written a word and that seeing the love she extends toward strangers moves me?
Riding motorcycles reminds me to notice those things. Sometimes, when I ride, I feel the well inside me fill up. I have the thought in my head that I should hurry home or pull over and call someone it feels so good. You know the well I’m talking about, everybody’s got one. It’s the well full of best friend’s smiles, of accepted apologies and warm blankets, of laughing babies and forgiveness; of stumbling puppies and the shared glances between lovers that no one else on earth can decode.
That well holds all the love you feel that, even when your try your best, you can’t fully express. I should tell mom it’s all going to be alright, I should tell my brother how much his laugh means to me. I shouldn’t leave one honest, heartfelt emotion unexpressed. It’s why I love music and art and motorcycles. They express those things where mere words fall short, or at least allows us to feel them, then lets us tuck them away until the next time we get to dip into the well again.
That’s what I tell myself anyway. Sometimes I follow up, sometimes I fall short; but I’m never sorry I’ve dipped into the well and I always find something beautiful there worth sharing. It’s another reason, among many, that I ride and always will.