I have decided to commit to a two-wheeled vehicle.
This has proved to be a really intersting decision, in the way that it was fueled from a really weird place.
In the past year, I have made many decisions, not all of which were particularly *good* decisions. I got used to a certain level of fear in my life, and now I’m trying to figure out what to do with that.
At the time, it wasn’t something that I particularly noticed, but when I went back, and started comparing my current thought processes to the ones that I had years ago, there was really only one noticeable change for me, and that was this addition of *fear*.
It’s frustrating, because I can’t just…wish it away. I can’t just go back to being the way I was before. I don’t get to magically stop assessing situations from this place where I am now, where fear is a part of how I view life.
That’s really hard for me, because it’s so easy to remember when that *wasn’t* how I felt.
(Or maybe it’s not. Maybe I just processed it all differently then.)
I was sitting there, listening to all of the people who say things like “Is that safe?” and “Don’t die!” and I just thought…Is that really the only reason? This is a thing that I want to do. I’m thinking about not doing it. The only reason…is fear.
(And I understand, this is a reasonable, logically founded fear. Like. I get it. If you’re in a accident on a motocycle, you’re in a *really bad* place. I do get that.)
But I’m also really done with rationalizing fears to be “sensible”.
Yes. Shit may happen.
But how much am I truly willing to let that control my life?
So. I have bought a motorcycle.
I am terrified, and exhilerated.
Which is apparently a situation that I like to be in. But it feels good.