Sometimes You Have to Wrench on Life

There has been some very serious tinkering going on in our garage over the past couple of weeks. Apparently motorcycles, older ones like my husband’s particularly, have a personality; Mike’s is a bit of a prick with hypochondriac tendencies.  That’s a nice way of saying the damned thing doesn’t make caring for it easy and decided not to start this cycling season. (Story note: I’m going to use the phrase ‘the damn thing’ repeatedly throughout this piece as that is actually the name I have given Mike’s bike… mostly, except ‘damn’ has replaced a much ‘F’-ier 4 letter word—it’s a well-earned moniker)

Our goal is to have the damn thing running like a top before Friday 13^th so that Mike can make his ride to Port Dover.

There is a chasm of uncertainty and repair that spans the distance between ‘the damn thing won’t run’ and ‘Dover’.

I offered to help, but I didn’t really know what I was doing or in for.  Trying, testing, cleaning, replacing, repairing and rebuilding. There have been numerous trips to dealerships, chain stores and motorcycle graveyards to collect parts, tools and fluids. Hours have been spent pouring over repair manuals and grease-monkey forums. I’ll be honest here and admit that I never actually picked up a tool. My ‘help’ was mostly moral support with a side of reading and eyelash batting encouragement.  The air in the garage has been thick with smoke, heady with fumes and on more than one occasion —blue.

Sometimes a change works, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes fixing one issue sheds a bright white light on another problem. While I’ve hit the wall of ‘damn this’ more than a few times in the process I’m growing a deep affection for the iron beast; in comparison I am not fractionally as needy and temperamental—how can you not love a thing that makes you look like a dream to live with!

Slowly…hideously slowly, after painstaking hours of fiddling, Dover has come into sight.

We cracked a cold one, man cave style, last night in semi-celebration of our success in finally getting the engine running (if not purring). I stared at the damn thing and a wave of accomplishment washed over me. We did it—conquered the damn thing!

But the battle was a challenge. At first we stood around with our hands on our hips starring at the lifeless machine and surmised the many various possibilities why it wasn’t working. Next we tried a couple of quick fixes and proclaimed our frustration as each failed. We got a little indignant with not knowing why ‘the damned thing’ wouldn’t run. Then we walked away for a day or two ignoring the bike as though fixing it didn’t really matter. At some point however, reality set in and the acknowledgement that our days to Dover were dwindling took us back to the garage. It was time to do the hard work. We began digging, investigating, examining the parts, the systems, the problems, the potential failures. Little by little, the more we delved into the troubles and slowly repaired each kink in the chain things improved. First a spark, then a crank, then a choking, spitting, backfiring rumble followed by a stall, a return to hard starts and then back again to good ignition, a high idle and a stall. Eventually though, through determination we’ve made it to the miraculous stage of ‘tweaking’! Hallelujah, raise the roof and pass the gravy! (or in this instance degreasing hand cleaner)

Barring any further neurosis of the damn thing Mike will ride to Dover. This is a very good thing. Riding, Mike always claims, is how he gets his brain back. Blacktop therapy. We all need it—a way to find and feed our inner peace.

It seems to be the same with motorcycles as it is with people

The trick to finding inner peace is getting the bike to run.

You have to have work through the problems, investigate the source of emotional struggles, acknowledge and repair and be honest with your own short comings, take ownership for your part and ignite a desire to fix it. Through the problem not around it lays the path to achieving freedom and the goal. And yes sometimes it sucks, sometimes it sets you back, sometimes it has you doing and acknowledging things you wish you didn’t have to do or face. Sometimes you need help. But when you finally get through the process, when everything runs and the problem is not just behind you but repaired….—Man, life is a sweet ride!  

Take a chance...see where the road takes you.

Love

M

Simmer Down Before You're the Party Drunk...(again)

I broke the rule last night. You know that cardinal rule ‘Never go to bed angry.’ Well I did, and I am completely exhausted this morning! Not because I was up all night stewing but because my mind was active all night being angry. I had dreams about receiving terrible service and dealing with rude people. I dreamt about being in grocery store line-ups and firing the cable company. I was yelling at people in my dreams and giving everyone I encountered a piece of my mind, my very very angry mind. I woke up this morning more angry than I went to bed and very grateful that I don’t break the cardinal rule very often.

It took a little while after wiping the sleep from my eyes and finishing my first cup of coffee to restore my demeanour. It was almost lunch and I was almost okay when I opened my latest library find and the universe hit me with Chapter 3; square in the eyes!  ‘The Other Side of the Fence – a case against aggression’

It’s a bizarre love/hate thing I have with the universe when this sort of thing happens. Kind of like when you know your Mother is right.

The book is Light Comes Through by: Dzigar Kongtrul  - overall impression heading into Chapter 4…. A fantastic must read for anyone looking to improve their world from the inside out.

So….the Universe says this to me via selected passages for Chapter 3….

You are at a party and there are beautiful people, surroundings, and laughter. The music is good too. Suddenly someone gets angry and throws a glass of champagne. It ruins the whole show –even the dog leaves the room. When someone gets angry, it effects the whole environment like an unpleasant odour that everyone has to smell. And, as our mental states are often quite fragile, it disturbs people’s minds. But it disturbs the person who gets angry more than anyone else.

I am the drunken guy at the party. With one exception; I would never toss away perfectly good champagne just to make a point.

When we get angry, we lose the dignity of our intelligence.

I am a sloppy drunk.

…anger gives the illusion of clarity. A certain strength arises when we have an opinion and we know where we stand.

I am a sloppy drunk who is 10 feet tall and bullet-proof!

…we throw in the towel and say, “I can’t take it any more—I’ve had it!” Anger seems reasonable when we feel threatened. As it’s said, “anger comes in the guise of a friend”—righteous and protective airtight logic. Someone or something else is always responsible.

I am the 10 foot tall sloppy bullet proof drunk who is leaving your dumb ass at the party and walking home with my new BFF. “f-you….I know the way”

Fortunately, Chapter 3, beyond doing an exceptional job of illustrating my anger and frustration as a drunken uncle, also provided a practicable solution.

Simmering

Normally we have so little control over our emotions—and we feel our vulnerability as a tight knot in our chest. People talk about needing armour, particularly around their chests, to protect themselves when they go to war. Even bugs have shells to protect themselves. But no physical armour can protect us from what disturbs us inside.

And we do, have to, ‘go inside’ because the answers to anger, frustration and aggression, just like the answers to purpose, needs and desires are always with us. Not found in our environment or the company we keep. They are found in the quiet space of learning about ourselves, of listening to our own thoughts about ourselves our feelings and our fears. Answers are found in accepting and taking responsibility for our own weaknesses, faults and short comings, in getting real with where we need to grow.

One more question is answered inside this space as well; “how bad do I want it, to move away from this place of non-peace?” THAT is a really good question; a hard question to answer honestly. Drama, for many is the fix that keeps life ticking. And just like an overeater needs cake, a drinker needs a drink and a smoker needs a smoke; angry people need the drama of aggression and conflict, even when it accomplishes nothing—Even when it amplifies pain, hurt and animosity.

Anger and conflict serve no purpose, create no end, and accomplish nothing beyond destroying futures of happiness.

Simmer…. (and I will learn this through practice and patience)

When we decide to practice non-violence, we make a deliberate choice to simmer with our aggression. Simmering doesn’t mean you boil in your aggression like a piece of meat cooking in a soup. It means you refuse to give in to anger because you know the result of aggression and you want to experience the confidence that comes from patience. So you let yourself feel how strong the tendency is, without rejecting it or giving in to it.

So following this advice from Chapter 3 (which, by the way Universe, would have been much better to read last night before the disrupted sleep) I would have done myself a greater service to acknowledge that I was angry and spend time uncovering the reason in me why. What past nerve got touched? Which old wound, fear or anxiety did the light shine on? What part of me do I need to heal so that I am beyond the reach of something outside of me, somebody else’s actions, opinions or behaviour?  

Can this Simmer Practice really preserve my inner peace in times of turmoil? I’m worth finding out.

So I spent some time simmering – even though the intense anger phase was past. I found out a few things about myself. A couple I’m not really proud of and one that frightens me to the core.

Then I made an apology.

I think I might sleep better tonight.

Love 

M