Early on in my adventure into testing the boundaries of reality, a wise woman explained that our efforts to change look like a pendulum. Your first try is a bit over-the-top, but you eventually settle into a balance. For me, I liked to visualize Newton’s Cradle, but I’m far enough along the road to Figment now to notice the various nuanced little adjustments that allow me to flow as smoothly as the sand under the waves between Reality and Figment.
The reality is that my bucket list was empty. I was stealing things from other peoples’ buckets just for something to do. Then I went to my dreams for inspiration and couldn’t settle on a choice between three things. An Indian Scout. A Harley trike. A Polaris Slingshot.
The reality is that I miss driving a stick. I want to be forced to pay attention to my driving. But the recurring dream is that I am downshifting in a left turn and can’t remember if I am on an old Triumph or a new Honda. And I am riding with Heartbreaker, whose opinions have always inflenced me more than anyone else’s. I do not want to fail this turn and bruise my ego. Forget about bones and guts. In real life I have flown over the driver, who flew over the handlebars of a borrowed bike. I landed on my borrowed helmet. He was turning left in front of a NH memorial to their war dead. I got my permit. I let it expire. For forty years I have downshifted into that curve.
So for now I think my balloon motorcycle best represents the indecision. I can hold all options as viable…..until I renew my permit, at least.