Friday on the Bridge
I'm not in the mood to write tonight. Just trying to go through the practice of it again. The routine of writing each night. It is easy for me to type quickly so I cannot even use the excuse of feeling to tired to sit and write by hand. I just don't feel like it. I feel the resistance of it, not wanting to stick with practice, just wanting to sit around with CK watching a show and being close.
She met me at the office today after work and we bicycled around downtown having dinner, picking up rain gear. On the way back we stopped and stood on the bridge, letting me work with some of my anxiety of being up on it, feeling exposed. Like writing when I don't want to, the practice of riding over the bridge will lead to good things in my life.
We got back on our bikes and road across the bridge and on to CK's flat. I started to change into my nightshirt and felt really ill, nauseated and shaky. When I realized I was cold we figured it was blood sugar and I had a banana and some tea.
I feel better now but when it first really hit, I plopped down on the sofa and felt a big wave of grief, misery, and helplessness. Something about nausea that makes me feel like a small child in a bad way. Just a feeling of being ill, helpless, vulnerable that somehow very young.
Friday on the Bridge
CK met me at the office today after work and we bicycled over to the Bridgeport Brewery in time to take advantage of happy hour pints. Vegan tofu "fries" with cashew sauce and hummus. Nice to see a few items listed as vegan on the menus there, this is a change from the last time I was there a couple of years ago. Made sure to mention on the way out how nice it was to see more vegan items, I figure feedback will only encourage more things!
I've always liked the beer at Bridgeport and it was nice to enjoy it on tap there. They redid the entire upstairs, where AM and I had our wedding in 2001, into a dining area. The whole downstairs is opened up as well, lots of seating. We sat upstairs and looked at the window and the parking lot construction happening across the street.
The tofu fries were very tasty. Thin strips of firm tofu deep fried in very hot oil -- tofu made into tasty junk food. It was crispy, light, and not very oily at all. The cashew sauce was a thin, creamy sauce with a big drop of Siracha style hot sauce in the center. Nicely flavored, it went well with the tofu fries.
Yet another hummus plate. The paprika olive oil was subtle and nice. The hummus was pretty standard. I really liked the herb and brine cured olives were very tasty. The brine level of them was a bit much for CK so I got to enjoy the whole lot of them.
Then on to REI to find rain gear for bicycling. Found a good jacket and pants, so I'm better prepared for rainy days. CK got a jacket too, the same one I did. We may look a little cute with matching jackets, but they fit well and are bright colored with reflective bits.
Rode back across the Broadway Bridge. Still a little unnerving to be on the bridge. After about a third of it we got off and walked our bikes for a little while. CK kept talking to me, pointing out all the beautiful things you can appreciate because you're up on the bridge. We stopped partway across and watched the MAX and cargo trains go by. The wind was gusty and when a very large truck or bus would go by on the bridge would shake and rock a little, shuddering under our feet.
It was beautiful and intimidating. The movement of the bridge feels very unstable. I feel a sense of dread too. If something catastrophic was to happen being up on the bridge is very vulnerable and I wouldn't survive it. I don't want to leave now, I don't want to leave the people I love. However, living in Portland it is the way I will get into work regardless of car, bicycle, MAX train or bus. I love the beauty of the bridges and that they're part of my life. Like writing when I don't want to, the practice of riding over the bridge will lead to good things in my life.
OSCON08 by Bicycle
At OSCON today I was telling CK how much I enjoy sharing the experience of being at the conference, learning with her, that it feels very organic and collaborative. So often in the past it felt very competitive, having to prove myself as a woman in unix systems administration. Now at work I more of a coach so there isn't that feeling of collaboration in the same way. Plus this is another way in which she teaches me, we share learning, and that is very precious. I am enjoying sharing the challenge of learning to bicycle again with CK and how I'm able to actually just relax into her taking care of me.
Back at the house after what felt like a long, but possible bicycle ride to the house AM had experienced an unsettled day. We talked about one thing that kept at him was that despite of how Love has been written about but that some people just will not know that kind of connection. I especially liked his comment that we don't find love, we are conduits for the energy of Love in the universe. It reminded me of the idea that we are growing, cultivated by our relationships with one another.
Revisting the Genjo Koan by Bicycle
Oh I slept so poorly last night even having taken some melatonin. I tossed and turned from some combination of pain and travel dreams. That busyness of rushing to a destination, unsettled. I could not help but whimper a little when my alarm went off at 6AM. I hauled myself out of bed and got myself together, onto the bicycle and off to CK's.
I made it a little more quickly to her flat this time and had some breakfast while she finished getting ready. It took us only 10 more minutes to bicycle over to the Convention Center for OSCON. We locked up and watched all the guys walking by with badges on. We laughed at how relieved we were to be there together. She's not been to an event like this before as an attendee and I've not been since 2000.
We got through registration, through the Starbuck's line, and onto our respective sessions. I had all Perl workshops today while she did one on PHP and another on A/B testing. We were fed salads topped with grilled veg and tofu, which was pretty good. Tomorrow she and I both will be in PHP workshops together. I'm looking forward to it a lot.
The ride home was hard since the wind was blowing right down N Williams making the hill climb up to Alberta challenging. Other bicyclists passed me in a parade of faster rides powered by legs more trained than mine currently are. I just kept pressing my feet into the peddles and trying to breathe through my nose, control my breath.
CK asked me later if a year ago I would have thought I'd be commuting on a bicycle. I'm so thrilled that I can do this, very surprised too. I didn't really think it would be possible to find something that I felt both comfortable and safe on. It is intimidating to be out in traffic again, I found the big trucks loud and close as they rushed past me on Russell. As tough as I find the hill up to Alberta, I'm still so grateful to be huffing & puffing my way up it.
In answering her I found myself stumbling over one of Chozen's Dharma talks from last winter. The sangha had been studying Genjo Koan for several weeks. One evening Chozen focused on the image of a boat that reappears in Dogen's lines. She talked about how we feel when on that boat, with nothing but ocean in four directions. How would we see the ocean at that point, how is the boat viewed.
In that kind of situation we tend to cling to the boat, the idea that the ocean is enemy at that point. If we loose the boat, we are consumed by the ocean. We don't see the limitless, boundless, teeming depths of the ocean as our element, we cannot sink into the idea of merging with it, abandoning our little boat and our wish to see land soon.
Chozen taught that our mind is that boat floating upon the boundless ocean of the BuddhaDharma, but our tendency as we age is to close our mind which shrinks that boat. We start telling ourselves that we're too old to learn something, no longer willing to try new things, and believing we're not capable of something. Chozen found herself, at 60 learning how to play piano for the first time.
And I find myself riding a bicycle. My shoulders, mid-back, side ribs and chest ache. We realized that it is most likely because I'm gripping the handlebars with such tension as I learn this skill all over again. Still, I'm making my way through trucks and the whoosh of cars.
Bridge
Riding my bicycle over the Broadway Bridge for the first time today, with CK riding behind me for support and encouragement, brought me back to wondering why sometimes it is so easy to sink into feeling good about being cared for. Not only that it feels good, but it is easy to sink into it and just be in it. At other times being cared for by another person simultaneously arouses feelings of guilt and unworthiness. I find it impossible to sink into, just relax in the sensation of being cared for. It is pretty easy to look at it and trace back to how fraught my childhood was with the feeling that being cared for had strings attached or that my input on how best to care for me was unnecessary, bothersome.
Today was an easy day. Perhaps it is because I feel so new to bicycling, returning to it after years of not doing it at all. Traffic is more intense, both cars and other bicycles, and the gear has changed a lot too. Immediately back to a beginners mind when it comes to bicycling, so the feeling of being watched out for, kept safe, was helpful and comforting.
I found it harder when CK bought me a book at Powell's. Little twinges of guilt. She makes comments about my birthday coming, hinting at gifts, and I felt small for a moment, off center. I'm wearing the hoodie she bought me at UBC, which I love to wear because it is warm, comfy, and reminds me of CK. When she said she wanted to get it for me I felt, all at once, pleasure & excitement and guilt & discomfort, not wanting to seem a burden.
Similar emotions all rushed up when she gave me a massage in Vancouver. Eventually I was able to relax into her touch, until such time as our energy mutually shifted to being less relaxed. Always so many moments where my initial reaction to her caring, her affection is a feeling of uncertainty and not being worth it. I shift past that immediate response, into reality and the present, sometimes that transition takes longer, feels more rocky.
I make it eventually, able to at least truly feel the way I'm cared for even if I feel the discomfort in it at the same time. Finding some way to be on the mid-span, bridging two extremes. One extreme is the place where I feel shaky, uncertain, ashamed, unworthy, and afraid that if I sink into being cared for it will be suddenly pulled away from me in a way that inflicts humiliation. The other place, the other side of that bridge is where I am fully able to relax into being cared for, trust in it and be nurtured by it.
Broadway Bridge
I rode my bicycle across the Broadway Bridge today. I felt so exposed, so shaky, so frail and vulnerable. The river seems so big and the bridge so long from a bicycle. I've not ever been on any of Portland's bridges in anything other than a car.
Almost like a return to watching the bird on the sidewalk earlier this week; that connection to the delicate and tenuous nature of our existence. In a car you might feel a very big gust of wind coming off of the river or a large truck, but on a bicycle I would feel my arms shake and the frame and I would wobble just a little.
Going over the first time I couldn't bring myself to ride on the right hand side, which I should be doing so faster riders are able to pass me on the left. The rail on the right side looked so very low and open, so much so that I have no appreciation for the beautiful metal-work of the rail, only a feeling of anxiety that I could easily be over the rail and plummeting towards the river. That someone died jumping off of the Hawthorne Bridge earlier this week -- just for a lark, he and his friends were all doing it...
Finally I was off the bridge and waiting at the light. I sat through a green light not realizing that the bicycles have their own light! Riding up Broadway, through the hotel zone and the shopping around Pioneer Square, was a bit unnerving. I even put my foot down once and braked when I should have kept going. Cars jockeying for parking, drivers not even bothering to look for bicycles. Then up the hills to the Portland State University campus, which ended finally and we locked up our bikes.
CK said I had a huge grin on my face when we were standing there at the edges of the Farmers Market. I was still breathing heavily from going up the hills. It just feels so hard. I wasn't down in my lowest gear, but I was pretty low and felt as though I was moving so slowly. CK said I was doing fine and wasn't nearly as slow or shaky as I felt I was (this seems like a theme in my life... my therapist notes that I always evaluate myself far more harshly than others do).
I was so incredibly grateful to have CK riding behind me today, calling out instructions the whole time. She reminded me not to stop suddenly in bicycle traffic, as I had a couple of times due to nervousness in the hotel zone. She gently chided me later for answering my mobile and chatting briefly with AM, "Pull over to talk on the phone". I felt safer and less anxious with her there caring for me.
Bridge Anticipation
I feel quite a bit better today after aching a lot for days. Iris worked on my very sore left side. My feet, which have been cramping so much, feel better a bit too. I'm relieved since tomorrow CK and I are going to bicycle into downtown together.
I'm going to bicycle on a bridge -- which leaves me feeling a little nervous to be honest. I'm even more excited to get to go bicycling with her than I am anxious about being on a bridge! Since I live in Portland I really need to get over this nervousness or resign myself to never going to the West Side unless I figure out how to take the Townie on MAX or a bus!
Bicycling Around Town
About that time, when I was feeling particularly uncharitable towards people I work with, I left to take my new bicycle back to the shop.
A back rack, very stylish, was added to the bike as well as a bottle holder for the handlebars since one can't be put on the frame. One of the mechanic crew fixed the looseness in the post so my saddle doesn't flip around when I lean back into it. He also adjusted the handlebars back a little. Brought it home, hung out with AM for a little while then he and I got an old, metal Alpenrose milk crate bungie-corded onto the back. I loaded up my yoga gear and made it to the community center in 17 minutes.
I rode over to CK's after a nice class (they even tried side plank). Hung out with her for a little while, talked about my technical problem at work. After I had some water, almonds, and sitting I got my laptop I'd left there in the morning, and get everything loaded up. CK laughed a little and noted how I looked like a typical Portland bicycle commuter all of the sudden.
I made it back home again on the bicycle. The last two blocks going up towards Alberta feel so long, even longer tonight with the laptop, yoga straps, eye bags, speakers and my backpack. After I got up to Alberta I enjoyed the long, slight slope downhill home.
Slipping Back Into Routine
I woke up this morning at CK's when Atari jumped on the bed around 6:30, meowing and wanting attention. He ended up jumping over me and settled in the space between my knees & chest. I noted the golden light coming in under the blinds, pet Atari briefly and listened to CK breath.
It felt so nice, so lovely that I hated having to disturb the quiet, upset the cat. My alarm was going off and I had work to get to. CK sleepily mumbled at me, pulled the duvet up over us. I snuggled up to her a little, giving her little kisses. I wished I could just lay there with the two of them in the cool of the morning instead I reluctantly pulled away from her and took a shower.
When I came out, dressed but for my shoes, CK looked up at me and muttered, "You're already dressed." I sat back down on the bed with her and listened as she tried to wake up, insisting she was going to at least get up and walk with me. I insisted back that she just sleep some more. She drifted back off, her hand slipping off my knee.
My heart had a moment of feeling so full at seeing her there sleeping with Atari curled up by her legs, at home in Portland. She looked like she was really resting. I could appreciate just how sexy she is, how completely appealing to me on that level, but I was also just struck at how sweet and beautiful the morning was. I forced myself up and out the door, putting my headphones on.. The moment on the bed kept my step light all the walking to the MAX stop, riding into downtown, and onto my work day.
Mostly good day at the office. Usual mix of talking with people, even after these several years it feels strange that chatting is encouraged because it encourages strong teams. I did some training, wrapped up some things, finished some script stuff I was working on. Got some really frustrating news from our IT department. About that time, when I was feeling particularly uncharitable, I left to take my bicycle back to the shop.
After teaching asana practice this evening I popped over to CK's for a little visit. Before I left she hugged me close asking if I'd really worried her family would talk her out of our relationship. I told her that mostly I was feeling anxious for her stress down there in Sacramento and my being up in Portland unable to take care of her. From all of that anxiety bubbled up silly stuff that I knew wasn't real at all. It isn't that I don't know she's fully capable of caring for herself. I just like to do things that leave her feeling cared for -- making dinner, helping shop for groceries, just being there to listen to her.
When I got to the house all hot and flushed from the ride AM helped me with my stuff and told me he was proud of me. It feels strange that someone should be proud of me for doing this. I'm trying to keep it in perspective and try to see the accomplishment. I feel that when I reflect on some of the anxiety I've felt at riding a bicycle again, but I fall into the usual habit of not taking pride in what I'm doing.
Bicycle
So I'm still reeling in shock from having purchased a bicycle today. After trying out four different bikes and doing a test ride of a guy's model because it was $125 less on a Criagslist add, I settled on a blue, Electra Townie 21 from the Bike Gallery on Sandy; a very cool woman named Marjorie helped me out. In fact I'd gone into the shop yesterday asking to ride a cruiser style bike from the same company. She suggested I try out the Townie while I was waiting for the cruiser to have the seat fixed.
I picked up a very blinky rear LED light that clips onto the Bell Metropolis style helmet (which was thankfully on sale $15 off). I also got a Cats Eye headlight that's mounted on the handlebars. They installed fenders for me and during my first ride I head small rocks from the road catching on them. I'll need to take it back for a couple of adjustments, the saddle moves around a bit on me and I head a little drag noise when I was in the highest gears. They'll also be adding a rear rack and a water bottle holder.
I rode over to her flat tonight on my evening mission to take care of Atari. It took me about 20 minutes to get there. I followed other bicyclists through the intersections that I was a little challenged by (crossing MLK). One guy complimented my bike, which felt pretty good. Once I got home I started to feel anxious again about buying the bicycle.
I'm already $109 over my budget and still need a lock, pump/patch kit, water bottle holder, and the rack (probably over another $110). The bike was more than I was expecting, but is very comfortable for me which is what is really important, otherwise I cannot ride. I spent more on a helmet but am very happy with that choice, ditto for lights. I've decided I'm going to ask Mom if she'll chip in money towards buying some panniers as my birthday gift, especially one that can hold a laptop safely. We're doing some things in very different order so I am able to have a good bike this summer. I'll be able to ride it to yoga classes, over to CK's, around the neighborhood and maybe eventually I'll even be able to ride to work.