an example of a slam crush (see "downtime" post)

><)))*>...fishin food for thought...

DOWNTIME

“I’m hurt and i can’t ride :( the only thing that keeps me from annihilation station - i need an exodus- what’s next? Because I’m going from a butterfly to a night crawler- some one catch me before I fall, or...if i can’t enjoy this snow then my metamorphosis has begun. When i spun round and instead of going up I’m goin’ down- feed me Tequilla and/or Crown- anything to turn this frown royally upside down”

I had a momentary lapse of strong-will when I wrote the above, Feb 18th. We spend so much time reevaluating our senses in order to stay positive and live our lives free of the paper weight. There has to be a time when inevitably, the weight gets to be heavy, and just as the snow comes toppling down the rooftop, a moment can be spent in silence as you allow yourself to find a low point in being. Just as there is a yin to every yang, there will always be a low to a high. It is in how you allow yourself to feed into it and it is in how you allow it to affect the deepest innards that we must be reflective toward. We are, after all, human. Whatever that means! HA!

I feel I entered an abyssal obsidian space for a reflective moment, and realized at the end of the two week + two (harsh) day down period, that it was alright to have a feeling of disappointment. It is always alright to have a down time, so long as one can come through to the other side in one piece. I have suffered from 5 seasons of downtime:- Winter and Me = lots of air time, lots of height, and my four little pegs to catch it all upon a hard pack non snowed terrain-(yes, yes- all my fault). At some time, it’s not always going to work out. Injury city has been a phenomenon I have not had to really ever deal with until the last 5 years. Funny enough, I quit competing Boardercross after winning Nationals for fear of being injured!

 After my somewhat severe injuries last year, on top of the ones prior, I definitely became sullen when I discovered that even after 2 weeks of (current) downtime, I still could not ride. My idea of an injury free season was largely crushed and my desire to win back lost time from other injuries was squashed. However, one might ask, why am I so inclined to continue to live this way and not learn from these mistakes? I do learn. I learn how to take a blow with onset. I learn to try not to make the same mistake twice. Every injury has had a different story. I have learned from each. This is something I must do to enjoy life the way I want to know it.

A diet crush is just not a diet for me. A SLAM crush is. Jack it up. The sensation that I feel when I am in the air, and one of the few girls there, is priceless. Unexplainable. The only thing I can learn is to not come down on myself when I make a mistake and feel the pain. Time is endless in the universe and short lived in this physical waking life. We have to treat ourselves to the endorphins we were made of. Anyone care to join me?!! I will continue to ride, when I hopefully do get back to it in March, I will stay off the big jumps for the remainder of the season, but when that fresh Miracle March hits, I’m gunna be ready. And I’m open to any fresh reminders from friends to be good to my physical health while riding. No terrain park jumps! Cheers *)

><)))*>...fishin food for thought...

Fever Ray 'When I Grow Up'

><)))*>...fishin food for thought...

WHY NOT HEART YOU?

Finding a point of literary inspiration syphoned from an alien vessel satiated with a negative sentiment about a hallmark holiday. Entrusting where two parallels meet between a day to love and a day to boycott, we can still find a way to alleviate the massive opinion charade and still regard each other for what it’s worth. I support the argument about this day existing because of the commonly felt capitalistic deceit. I agree to the notion that we should love daily. It is by far legitimate. No question. But, on a global scale, where most lives are consumed with routine and haste, and even daily expressions of love can be forgotten, shouldn’t we find a day to really emanate a thriving hum of love? A hum that can generate a vibration so loud even our hardest of hearing can hear it? Better yet, feel it? Why not create a day to love? It’s of one’s own choice whether to sell out to the hallmark supported merchandise, and it’s of one’s own choice to disregard a day to love for the mere idea we are shredding our dignity by being a sell-out. But, it is my choice to contribute to the hum and allow it to grow regardless of any status quo on any relationship runway. I’m going to run with the analogy that for every 364 days a year I love, a 36fifth day will be the completion of the entire heart-beat. Imagine what could happen if we all did this on the same day! So why not love more today?

><)))*>...fishin food for thought...

HIGH MOUNTAIN BIRD

High in the mountains, the place where you are, there is a bird flying free of toxic man. There is a place where one can rest, be easy, think no more of the distressing jungle which clouds the earth with concrete. Placed gently beneath the trees, one can see, one can feel, one can be the rhythm of the cosmos circumnavigating the axis of our sound vibration. You are one of those now. It is not to ask how, but to awaken the spirit within and let him be the bird.

><)))*>...fishin food for thought...

HOPE FOR TWO SIDES?

I was reading a friends blog about struggles she has been enduring while working with Haiti relief. She inspired me to comment on her post, as it helped me make a connection to something that had happened recently here in tahoe. This is what i wrote back to her- which i feel can be something we can all relate to:

  I was just having a conversation with a kid on the lift chair. Well, he was older than a kid- we were talking about kids. Western kids. Every country has its own hoodlems to deal with, but, there is a major disconnect in the western hemi. After being subjected to a "shit-talk bandwagon" between two guys who knew nothing of eachother, and not connected to each other in any way, i wondered what it was they were missing. It was easy to determine that they had not been vicitims of real injustice in their lives. They hadn't had an experience that taught them the truth of the world. What is it to live without power on a daily basis, nor water, nor anything techy, etc. Their faces glued to their iphones, at 17, were just  glimpses of a hairline waiting to recede, or, a neck pain in the near future. What is it to have a bad day when trying to survive in Haiti as a resident, an aid worker, a journalis,t etc... clean clothes are such a commodity! A washer and dryer are items for the wealthy. A polluted and dirty river is the cleanest water outside of a plastic bottle. These bad days come and go, but in our retrospect, we can appreciate the beauty of the harsh environments we willingly subject ourselves to. There is a way to the other side for you and I. But, for the people who live with this lifestlye on a daily basis, and have no hopes for a cleaner future, despite the tremendous efforts you give, where is the other side? What is the other side? There is only one side for people in struggle, and that is the only side they know. Dealing with it. It makes me cringe at the thought of a society strapped in technological Armageddon. Will there ever be hope for the westerners that also seem to have one side; a side where they will never have to question these incongruances which I question?  There is so much more to the story than what i'm saying... but you catch my drift, right? Soon, perhaps, we can draw some sort of curtain, and there just may be another side for these amazing and strong willed people of Haiti, as well as those who lives exist along side suffering.

SOLIDARITY

Writing a capture in time, a photo in frame, still. Taking this second a.m. hour to share the delight of thought. A dream filled with anxiety only for a time of heavy discussion. Reassurance, deliberate and inconsiderate, is the motivation for any particularly spared individual. Spared from the truth- roots grow from the bottom up. Conscience comes from a mind willing to accept one own limits… faults. A sequence in intimate respect is a reward only given to those open to critical thought. A sense of closure is only required to those with profound attachment. Give me a gift of solidarity and let me see through the ties that bind. Appreciate the slightest, expect less expectation. Neutrality in my senses, because within a day I clogged with an information purge- non requested. My story, please remain ecclectic. My favorite? Is there such a thing? I was reminded that people focus on comfort clings- perhaps the oxymoron here is- I needed my security blanket so much so while young that whence finished at youth, I’d say au revoir forever. What is security? A favorite food, smell, etc.. Is there such a thing? I love in so many ways- could I possibly give in to one favorite? Seem it strange to the attached world that binds, but feeling a broad sense of mind. No attachment, personality inspired devoid of reassurance. I believe in myself. And I heard recently, there is no awesome without me.