Collin

Posted on June 20, 2013 by rangotti

Today I lacked motivation on all fronts. I stayed at a hotel last night and visited with a friend and watched her race a short track mountain bike race. The race was fabulous…you rock Beth! But the hotel about did me in. I slept for 9 hours straight. Those people who know me know that I rarely sleep more than 5-6 hour at a stretch. This morning I got up and the hotel had a breakfast buffet so I didn’t even have to scrounge for breakfast. And they had hot water that didn’t need to be boiled over a fire, free WiFi, and flush toilets. I was living in decadence.

I had decided to forgo my morning ride and just hang out and chill, yet it was also time for a blog post. I was struggling to find something to blog about and my friend Kurt suggested that if I get out and ride, I would find my motivation as well as my post. Way to light a fire under my ass there Kurt! I did find it a bit ironic that, after 2 weeks of camping out with hiking and cycling and only sporadic access to showers that Kurt suggested I ride to Hygiene CO, but I have to admit, riding this morning gave me motivation for this blog post.

I got my bike kit out of the car and then dragged my feet upstairs to change. I pulled my Team Collin kit out from my bag. Whenever I put on that kit, I feel motivated to ride. In case you haven’t read the right sidebar of this blog, I am a member of Team Collin. To give you the backstory:

Team Collin

Team Collin started as a group of cycling enthusiasts from around the country who ‘met’ through an online cycling forum called “the Lounge”; on occasion a few forum members would meet to ride together and socialize. The seeds of Team Collin were planted in 2008 when Collin, the 7-month old son of one of our forum members, was diagnosed with an aggressive type of leukemia. Collin’s family would keep the forum updated as his difficult treatment progressed while ‘Loungers’ offered prayers and support of various kinds. Every little improvement in Collin’s condition was celebrated by hundreds of people all over country as his courageous battle became a focal point for so many who were themselves cancer patients/survivors, or who had lost loved ones to cancer.

In the spring of 2010, just after his 2nd birthday, Collin lost his battle and passed on in the arms of his loving family. The members of the Lounge collectively mourned his loss, and his death became an event that acted as the catalyst to finalize the formation of Team Collin. As the team’s namesake, his memory and his courage are celebrated when Team Collin gathers every year to support fund-raising to support cancer research, treatment and education.

I will ride with them next week in Indianapolis.

So I put my kit on this morning, and it felt like cloaking myself in armor and going off to war. Not a war to end life, but a war against cancer. It is a very simple thing for me to use my health and fitness to help others. I ride with a list of names in my jersey of people who I know whose lives have been affected by cancer. Many of them can’t ride anymore, so I ride for them.

But for me, that kit represents more than that. I am not sure I can articulate this, but Collin’s life has touched mine. I didn’t know him, I wasn’t even a member of the forum when he was sick, and I have never met his parents. But I have heard the story and because I am committed to using my health to battle illness, I did something crazy and unpredictable. I, an inexperienced cyclist who had never met any of these people in real life, asked to be part of Team Collin. I actually didn’t think they would say yes, but they did. They taught me about bikes and cycling. They taught me about relationships, compassion, and life. They helped me find my voice as a strong, confident, independent woman. They have helped me change my life.

Then one day, I got my team kit. The first time I rode with it on, I realized the riding was different. I was more confident and I pushed myself harder I would fearlessly try things that had scared me in the past. It was like the kit gave me superhero powers. I didn’t question it, I just wore it hoping to generate interest and support for Team Collin.

Today, as I got dressed, I really let myself think about how differently I felt and rode when I put the kit on. My lack of motivation for riding disappeared. I donned the rest of my gear and hit the road, in a strange place that I have never ridden before, unafraid. I am always more careful to ride with good etiquette when I am wearing the kit because I want to always be promoting the sport of cycling in a way that would honor Collin. I always push myself harder because I want any who sees me in that kit to see me giving my best, in honor of Collin. I think of my teammates, who give of their time to ride this event every year, who come from all over the country at great personal expense, and I want to ride well for them, in honor of Collin.

As I was riding and realizing all that this morning, a thought hit me: Why do I wait to put on the kit to face my life unafraid? Why can’t I use the lesson that Collin has taught me over the last year as a member of Team Collin and participant of the Lounge, to live fully every day of my life? And I realized that I am doing just that. This little boy who didn’t have a chance to grow up and learn how to ride inspires me to ride every day. His memory gives me courage to be the woman I want to be and to live my best life. When I am faced with new experiences or strange situations where I am out of my comfort zone, I ask myself, what would Collin tell me to do? I think he would say to go for it, live life every day fully in each moment, it might be the only moment you have.

Thank you for giving me courage Collin, I know your spirit rides with me every day.

Walking with the Raven

Posted on June 17, 2013 by rangotti

I flunked therapy…not the class, the actual experience of psychotherapy. Yes, that is right, I am too crazy for the mental health community to “help”. Today, I am going to give you a clear glimpse into my “crazy”.

I traveled from Seattle, stopping in Oregon then Nevada and down to California to visit Yosemite. I spent a couple of days of camping and cycling. Then I drove through Utah, spending some time at Great Basin National Park, before heading to Moab and doing some desert hiking and then to Colorado. I cycled in all of those states and I am getting more comfortable riding in new places by myself.

Cycling near Moab. Colorado River

I am starting to look forward to heading to Europe and even considering taking my bike when I head off to Africa to work.

Home sweet home

I also am getting more comfortable camping by myself in unfamiliar places and, in general, with the whole experience of living a very minimalist life. I am becoming pretty good at setting up and taking down my tent, I have had my first bear experience, my first injury by myself when I cut my foot pretty badly, and have been challenged by laundry, disorganization, and lack of electricity. My grooming has suffered and I am looking like the dirty filthy hippie I think I am. I seriously could use a spa day and some waxing. But that isn’t why I am crazy. Now I just look as crazy on the outside as I am on the inside.

What makes me crazy is how I see the world around me around me. In the last two weeks as I have traveled through six states and three national parks, I have seen some of the most amazing sights my eyes could have ever looked upon. Truly, I live in a wondrous land.

Ships made of stone

I have seen ships made of stone sailing on a sea of sagebrush. I have seen stone sentinels, guardians of the ancient places where men long dead once walked. I look in awe at stone monuments which allow me to understand how fleeting my time is upon this earth. I feel the magic in these ancient places.

Sentinels

I have seen the bones of creatures long dead and pots made by women who gave birth and raised children in caves that could only be reached by rope ladders hanging hundreds of feet above the ground. Can you imagine raising a two year old in a cave 200 feet above the ground, with no baby gates, and the only way out is up a treacherous rope ladder to the top of a mesa? The only thought to why they would do that would have been protection, safety. I allow myself to imagine the fear that it must have taken to drive these people to live in such a dangerous place. These are a people who have long been gone from this earth, leaving no history except for broken clay pottery and crumbling ruins of caves. We use their artifacts to recreate what we believe their lives were like. Will someone do that with our plasticware and ruins of skyscrapers?

I am crazy because I look around the world and I see the textures of the land. I see the contrasts in colors. I see beauty everywhere. I believe you can find beautiful things even in the most “ugly” of places or people. I see a land of valleys so vast they seem to be endless…the mountains that bound them so distant as to seem a mirage. The mountains that ring those valleys are so high they are like great stone ramparts cast before the distant sky. When you climb them, the decrease in oxygen is noticeable, your head hurts and your actions, even simple steps, take more effort.

There are barren valleys filled with salt, a world so harsh and desolate that it is amazing that anything can survive.

Yet everywhere you look, there are living organisms, creatures that eek out life in the harshest of conditions. There is cactus, sagebrush, tumbleweeds, lizards, snakes, birds of all kinds. And there are ravens.

When I was a younger, I had a rough time and was pretty messed up for a while. I had several Native American friends. One of them said to me at one time that I would never find my true spirit until I walked with the Raven. Whether that was said in a drug induced marijuana haze or if he really had a vision for my life, I don’t know. I only know that I have long had an affinity for corvids and on this trip, everywhere I have gone, every time I have had a powerful physical or emotional experience, it had been punctuated by the presence of a raven. Crazy huh? That is a hard thing to admit. Here I am trying to do some pre-sabbatical solo cross country cycling/camping trip as a warm up for heading off into Europe and Africa. I really am out of my mind.

I believe there is more to life than what we can see and hear and touch. Isn’t that what faith is? Believing in the unseen? Trust is another one of those things that isn’t tangible, yet we do it anyway. So every time I see a raven, I think of the prophecy. Who am I to say that it is too fanciful to be real? I am beginning to believe this trip is really what my friend was talking about.

At this time in my life, I am dependent on no one. This time, I walk freely with the metaphorical Raven, learning, growing, feeling, allowing myself to just BE. I am struggling to define my new place in the world as a single woman, an academic, a writer, a grandmother, a cyclist, and a traveler. Crazy.

And sometimes we struggle…

Posted on June 14, 2013 by rangotti

It has been two weeks now since I gave up my apartment and a week since I left Seattle. I have to admit, my training is suffering. It is hard to plan for cycling and hiking when I also have to figure out where to stay, how to get a shower after training without paying the price for a hotel, how to protect my gear in the car when I am on the bike and protect the bike when I am hiking, and where I will get my next meal from. In the last two weeks, I have slept on couches and in spare rooms and lived off the generosity of my friends. Other nights I have camped or stayed in hotels when I needed a shower and a real bed. I have eaten at restaurants way too much for my budget. Preparing healthy food is challenge without a refrigerator.

The thing about going camping or on holiday is that we have someplace to return to. We pack all the supplies we need based on that fact. If there are leftovers, we can just put them away in the fridge when we get home. We know that when we are tired of the fun of camping that we can go home, put the gear away, soak in the tub, make a healthy dinner, and just lay around on the couch writing a blog post. I am feeling the lack of that right now. I know it will get easier, but yesterday I was struggling so I got a hotel room thinking that would help and when I woke up this morning I realized it didn’t. I just need to fight through it, maybe have a good cry, and then get on my bike and ride, whether there is a shower following it or not. Yet here I am watching the sunrise over Moab realizing I should get my bike gear on and all I can think of is that my hair smells so good for the first time in 3 days, I just don’t want to get sweaty.

There are so many things we take for granted in life. Well, maybe you don’t take them for granted, but I certainly did. Things like hot showers, refrigeration, WiFi, friends, and relative safety. Right now, I want about 3 days of it. Someplace that I can just make dinner, get caught up on work, not feel like a burden to others, a place where I can get up and ride and go hiking and come back and shower. A place where I can feel safe for a few days.

But that isn’t where my life is right now and only I can struggle through it. I chose the path I am walking and I do not regret it. I have seen the most amazing things, met fantastic people, and know I am already becoming a different person. Somehow, I have to figure out how to live on the road, yet eat healthy and get my training time in every day and get some work done in the process. There has to be a way…I just need to find it.

It is funny, I started this blog because people asked me to, blogging is not the technical academic writing that is my comfort zone. But the blog itself has become magic. I start out writing that I am struggling, thinking that this will be a depressing post, and by the end of the post, I realize that I am ready to face the challenge. Whether anyone reads this or not, it has benefited me to write it.

So here is what I am going to do…as soon as the sun it up, I am going to get on the bike and ride a short route down by the river that will put me back at the hotel in time to shower. And then I am going to reorganize the car. After two weeks, I think I am realizing what I need and what I don’t. I think that will help. Then to the grocery store for some healthy food and off to see some incredible national parks for some camping and hiking. I might get to Colorado by Sunday.

As long as you stay on this side of the ground… ~JAB

Posted on June 11, 2013 by rangotti

When you go to visit someone and they tell you that they are cursed, that something happens to everyone that visits them, make sure you have your insurance card…just sayin’..because inevitably it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I came to visit my friends Sean and Debra on my first stop on the part of my sabbatical trip in the U.S. this summer. I have known Sean for awhile as part of a internet cycling forum I belong to called the Lounge. I had never met him or his wife in person. On the forum Sean has been incredibly supportive of my quest to become learn the intricacies of road cycling. In person he and his lovely wife were even more supportive. We had a great ride with about 2000 ft of climbing in 90 degree temperatures up to an altitude of over 7000 ft. As a low-lander from the Pacific Northwest where it is relatively cool most of the time, I had to stop a few times for water and to stand in the shade and reduce my core body temperature.

When they showed me where we were going and I looked up the hill, I didn’t think I could do, I really didn’t. I could see failure looming on the horizon. Sean never gave me the opportunity to quit. I remember him telling me that I could totally do this. As the breath sawed in and out of my lungs the whole way up twisty switchbacks, sweat pouring down my face, legs just turning the crankset, I kept thinking about how I needed to make sure that I gave it my best effort for Sean and Debra who had taken the time to ride with me as well as my other Lounge friends who have encouraged my riding. I kept repeating wabi-sabi, my climbing mantra, over and over as I thought about Cooper, Mike, Eric, Stacy, Bill, Greg, Len, Terry, Jeff, Kurt, John, Janet, Jonathan, Marvin, Steve, Jason, Stephen and all the others who have given me countless hours of advice and encouragement and I realized, whether I made it to the top or not, as long as I gave it my best effort and stayed on this side of the ground, they would still be proud of me. And then…there it was…the summit. Thanks Sean and Debra…and all my other internet friends. Great ride. Then I realized…OMG I have to DESCEND back down that? Sean can’t you just go get the car and pick me up? Descending is way scarier than climbing.

Again, Sean totally normalized my apprehension and there we were, descending down switchbacks, cars whizzing by, sheer drops down thousands of feet if you were careless and fell, and some of the most beautiful scenery my eyes have ever seen. . I laughed the whole way down. It was like flying, totally free, unrestrained, AMAZING. The ground leveled out and we were down. It was the greatest ride ever. We went back to Sean and Debra’s and had an incredible steak dinner and sat on the patio just enjoying a beautiful high desert evening.

And then the curse struck. With the dry air and the wind from the ride, one of my contacts got stuck up under my eyelid, folded in half. I thought it had fallen out and that my eye was irritated from poking around my eyeball trying to find it. We left to go hiking the next day and there, in the middle of nowhere, it felt like a white hot poker was being driven into my eyeball…I had scratched my cornea. Sean and Debra again were totally supportive, we found a Ophthalmologist who was able to remove the contact. Our day of hiking was ruined, but on the good side, I didn’t go blind.

It was unrealistic to think that in a year of traveling that nothing bad was going to happen. So I have had my first blip. It happened when I had supportive friends around and was in a place where medical attention was reasonable easy to find. It was a good trial to have to go through to realize I can handle whatever problems arise. I was reminded of something John once said to me, “as long as you stay on this side of the ground, it will be okay”.

No matter what challenges we may face, what climbs we may have ahead of us, there is nothing that can’t be overcome if we have hope, move forward, and just keep turning the crankset. Never give up as long as you are on this side of the ground.

Travelers in our own backyard

Posted on June 8, 2013 by rangotti

Leaving Seattle

So I am finally on the road. I still have some work to do for school, but it can be done from afar and I will back in the NW later this summer before I leave for Africa. But for now, moose, the Lounge flag, and I am on the road.

I have never had a lot of money and rarely have taken a true vacation to travel except for work or to visit family. I could bemoan that fact and be envious of my friends that travel a lot, but I am not. What it has taught me is a lesson far richer…to be a traveler in my own backyard.

When I lived in a small town in the south, I took my kids to places that were free or had little cost but that had lots of educational value. Our local parks, museums, library and historical attractions became treasured outings. My son takes my granddaughters to those same places today. When I moved to the northwest, I tried to do the same thing, to find lots of low or no cost things to do that were fun and quirky and that many people don’t take time to find out about. I know most of the Puget Sound’s hidden treasures by practicing being a tourist in my own town.

Mt. Hood

I have been accused of looking at the world with a sense of awe and childlike wonder. I will take that accusation and own it. That is the way I believe life should be lived.

Mt. Hood

One of the thing that amazes me about the US is how many natural resources we have, national treasures of scenic byways that so many people pass up to take the quick freeway bypass. Sometimes I think we just need to slow down and enjoy the beauty all around us. What is our hurry? We go to visit family and we take the freeway and hurry to get there and then complain about the family we came to visit only to get back on the freeway and hurry to jobs that we hate and lives that are unsatisfying. Slow down, stop and look around you at the beauty of the world. We have a short time on this planet. Soak up all the beauty that it can give us, and that beauty doesn’t have to be found in exotic locations, it can be found right in your own backyard.

View from OSU Cascades branch, Bend OR

View from OSU Cascades branch, Bend OR

Oregon countryside

Lots of volcanoes

And ride your bike!

More volcanoes

Wabi-Sabi

Posted on June 6, 2013 by rangotti

Wabi-sabi is a Japanese term that represents acceptance of transience and imperfection. Beauty is imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete. The wabi-sabi aesthetic is asymmetric, austere, simplistic, modest, rough and non-regular. It promotes intimacy and appreciation of the integrity of natural objects and processes. (Source wikipedia).

When my dad had his first stroke, as part of his rehab he learned how to make oval shaker boxes that nested within each other. He gave sets to all of his daughters. The weekend that I was visiting him, he didn’t have any perfect ones left, he only had the imperfect set that he made when he was learning. He wanted to make me a “perfect” set, but to me, those were perfect. In their imperfection I saw his tenacity to fight through the health problems, to learn a new skill, to practice getting it right. I saw a craftsman who loved to build things with his hands. I saw the father I loved in that imperfection. Wabi-sabi. I would post a picture but they are packed in the boxes in my office.

My friends Tony and Ken demonstrate the wabi-sabi aesthetic in all the things they surround themselves with. Their home is so tastefully decorated and comfortable, you can’t help but feel refreshed and loved when you walk through the door. It has been a haven for me for the last 6 years. A great example of their sense of taste is in their dishes, none of which match, all which are imperfect yet, to me, they are absolutely stunning.

In many ways their love for me has also shown that aesthetic and that is true for all of my friends. My friends saw this broken, damaged woman and recognized the internal beauty in me, my spirit, and my story. Their love for me has helped that spirit come out. They didn’t love me because I am stunningly gorgeous, witty, sophisticated, charming, or cultured because I am none of those things. I am too serious, I swear like a sailor, I could seriously use a shot of botox for my squint lines, I am blunt and outspoken, and I wouldn’t know culture if it slapped me upside my head. But with all the flaws, they see the beauty of my compassion, my love for the physical world around me and the people in it, my vulnerability, my shame, my fears, and they still think I am beautiful. It is their love and belief in me safely tucked in my soul that gives me the courage to embark on this journey.

One of my cycling flaws is that I suck at hills. When I was riding with Steve Cooper (an amazing cyclist), he told me to find a phrase that could match my breathing and my cadence, a mantra that I could chant while climbing. My friend Jonathan told me about the wabi-sabi. So now, even though it isn’t perfect, my climbing like the rest of cycling and my whole life, is wabi-sabi. Filled with the joy of the impermanent, the imperfect, the incomplete…undefined. When you pass me on a climb, you will hear me sucking air into my lungs and feel the energy of my legs pushing the pedals to turn the crank arms on the bike to the rhythm of wabi-sabi. And that is true of all parts of my life. The good part of life is the imperfections, those things that make us unique.

Today, take the time to see the beauty in someone you love. Not the idea of beauty our western society imposes on us, but take a look for the imperfections, because they are truly what makes people beautiful.

For these things, we are thankful…

Posted on June 5, 2013 by rangotti

Tomorrow morning will mark exactly a week since I packed my remaining possessions in my car and turned over the keys to my apartment. In that week, I have realized that I kept too much stuff. I drive a small SUV and had to put the seats down flat to fit everything in the back. Yesterday, I cut that amount in half. I think tomorrow, I might cut it in half again.

It is amazing how little we really need. But what was more shocking for me to realize was that all those things I held onto because “I might need them someday” were not only cluttering up my life, they were affecting my ability to let go of the past and move on. Even more profoundly revealing was the idea that many of those items could be used by someone who actually DOES need them right now, not just some hypothetical day in the future. And that person will have to go buy that same item. So now, I have an item that I am not using and there is another identical item that had to be produced, an item that used up more of the planet’s resources and another person’s financial resources to purchase it. All the while, the item sat in my home, unused, unneeded and taking up space. If we really want to save the planet and help our fellow man, we have to start by not hoarding stuff.

I also realized how easy it is, with all that stuff, to forget to give thanks for the important things. And I am not talking about people, they obviously are the most important parts of our lives, I am talking about being thankful for “things”. To figure out what is important, you have strip everything away and then add it back it to see the value it added to your life. For example, go two days without brushing your teeth and you will absolutely appreciate the value of your toothbrush.

When we allow our lives to be taken down to the bare essentials we find out what those essentials are. Today, I am thankful for being able to brush my teeth with clean water from a faucet, for freshly laundered underwear, and for electricity. I have a feeling that before my sabbatical is over, I will find that those things are luxuries.

The well of strength…

Posted on June 3, 2013 by rangotti

I really appreciate hearing from people who are reading this blog. I want to set the record straight and admit that I don’t actually have any answers to the mysteries of life. The only thing I know is the path that I personally have walked to get here to this moment.

I struggle as much as anyone. I struggle with insecurities, feelings of sadness and despair, of self-doubt and recriminations, and pretty much everything that a human being can struggle with. One of the lessons I have learned in the past few years is that as human beings, we have a whole range of emotions. The idea that we always need to be “happy” is not viable. In order to even understand what happy is you have to have felt sad at one time. To understand joy, you need to understand despair. They are all valid human emotions and in order to be centered, we have to understand and allow all of them to be part of us. We have to embrace the sad as well as the happy. It all just IS.

One thing that helps me through the dark times is a mantra, “the pain I go through today becomes the well of strength I will draw upon tomorrow.” Adversity is a great catalyst for growth and you have to embrace the hard times as exercise for your emotions just like you would embrace a physical exercise program for the health of your body. It isn’t easy, but it will ultimately make you stronger. Avoiding your problems weakens you. Avoiding problems in relationships weakens the relationship. You have to face problems, as well as life, head on.

This weekend, I came over to eastern Washington to return some items to friends who I probably won’t see again until next year and to spend time at their cabin. I brought a few friends over with me to do some hiking. In the evenings, I sat and listened to the intellectual discussion of my extremely intelligent friends swirl around me. I laughed with them at the humorous anecdotes they shared. I listened to their stories of heartbreak and their hopes for the future. I felt the joy of their love for each other and for me. At the same time, I knew that those moments weren’t going to happen again for a long time with this group of people, if they ever happen again.

As I prepare to embark on this journey, saying goodbye even temporarily is by far the hardest thing I have had to do. Leaving people you love is difficult for all of us. We long for them and grieve that we can’t be with them. Those emotions of longing and sadness are the price we pay for loving people. I would rather sit with my sadness and longing and feel it deep in my soul than give up one moment of the joy of being loved by my friends.

White sand days…

Posted on May 31, 2013 by rangotti

One of my favorite analogies about life was shared with me from my friend Pat. I was really struggling with letting go of past hurts and disappointments. Pat asked me why I was devoting so much energy to trying to change those things that can’t be changed, no matter how much I wished them to be different. Then he told me his analogy of the hourglass.

We all have an hourglass that represents the length of our lives. The hourglass has clear sand it, we don’t know how much is in there or when our lives will end. The moment we are born, the hourglass is flipped upside down and the sand starts running through. When it comes out, each grain is either white or black. It is white during those times that we are appreciating our lives, being good human beings, making good choices, etc. It is black when we are stuck in the past, complaining, being mean…you get the idea. So all of us, when we look at the sand of the part of our lives we have lived already, have some shade of gray. None of us has been either all good or all bad in how we deal with things, we are all somewhere in between.

Here is the thing…We can’t control the amount of clear sand that is in the hourglass, it is a finite amount and could run out anytime. We have to live our lives today, this isn’t a dress rehearsal. We also can’t take the sand that already came out and change its color. It is either white or black, it has already happened and we can’t go back in time. We have to accept what life is right now because the only thing accomplished by wishing for the black sand to be white is to make more black sand fall as we waste our lives on regret. The only thing that we can control in that equation is the neck of the hourglass, this moment. So I began to ask myself when I woke up in the morning, “Robin, is this going to be a white sand day or a black sand day? How do you want to live your life right now at this moment.” That line of thinking has totally changed my life. Thanks Pat.

So today, my first day of homelessness, I woke up late and went on a spectacular bike ride. I am still struggling to find a photo client that I like for displaying pictures, but here are a few from my ride. It is definitely a white sand day.

Fear is Where the Fun Starts

Posted on May 29, 2013 by rangotti

I was an unwed pregnant teen at 17 years old and my son was born a month after I turned 18. I learned pretty quickly that life isn’t easy for young, single mothers. I had to quit my job at a shoe factory because I didn’t have daycare. Soon after, I lost my apartment and I was homeless for the first time in my life.

The first night you spend on the street is one of the scariest nights of your life. Then it gets easier, you find regular places to sleep and people to hang around with that you can trust. The unnerving part is that so much of your energy is devoted to safety. It is hard to have the capacity to look for work when you have to spend so much time just looking for food, shelter, and warmth. When you have an infant who is depending on you, the insecurity of meeting basic needs is even greater.

Tomorrow, for the first time in over 30 years, at 49 years old, I will be homeless again. This time it will be because of choice not necessity, yet even so, I stand here on the precipice of being divided by zero again. My stuff has been given away, my apartment cleaned, my car is packed. I turn the keys over at 11 am and for the next year will have no place that to call “mine”, no place to nest or feel safe from the world. It is a scary and daunting place to be. For a long time I have wondered if I can actually do it or if I will cave to the illusion of safety that our houses create. There is only one way to find out…face the fear and do that which scares me most.

Everyone who knows me describes my character as someone who will whine the whole way up the ladder of a high dive, complaining the whole time that I can’t do it. But when I reach the top, I just jump. No fanfare, no explanation, no coaxing required. The process of climbing and complaining is my way of convincing and reassuring myself that the course of action I am on is where I want to be. Once I reach it, if I haven’t turned back, there is only one choice…jump. Tonight I am jumping. Tonight I am facing the fear, telling it hell no, and taking the risk anyway.

During one of the times that I was whining about doing some crazy activity that my friend Matt got me into, I told him how afraid I was. He looked at me with that gleam in his eye and said “feels good doesn’t it?” When I answered “not really”, Matt countered with “Robin, fear is where the fun starts. It is when you are at that edge of out of control that you are most fully alive”. And he was right, it does feel good. It pushes you to the edge of comfort and engages your mind and body in a way that safety never can. It makes all your senses come alive.

If you are stuck in a rut or want to make changes in your life, start with finding something you are afraid of and face it. It doesn’t have to be an adventure sport or even a risky activity. It could be something as simple as trying a new food or learning how to parallel park or even being vulnerable and authentic with your partner. It is something that pushes you out of your comfort, where you feel unsafe. Any activity that makes your heart pound and gives you that amazing sense of accomplishment when you have completed it…go do it. It is the first step to moving forward.

Face the fear because fear is where the fun starts.

The encouraging thing is that every time you meet a situation, though you may think at the time it is an impossibility and you go through the tortures of the damned, once you have met it and lived through it you find that forever after you are freer than you ever were before. If you can live through that you can live through anything. You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you stop to look fear in the face.

You are able to say to yourself, `I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’
The danger lies in refusing to face the fear, in not daring to come to grips with it. If you fail anywhere along the line, it will take away your confidence. You must make yourself succeed every time. You must do the thing you think you cannot do.

Eleanor Roosevelt, You Learn By Living (1960)

Life Divided by Zero

The Journey of Becoming Undefined