Sometimes we don’t know…

Post image for Sometimes we don’t know…

by Sky St. John on May 26, 2010

Sometimes our spiritual growth happens so slowly and over such time that we don’t really notice it until something occurs to bring into focus just how much we have changed.  I had such an experience this past week.

Twenty years ago I owned a small motorcycle—and I loved it.  Riding on two wheels feels close to flying to me—soaring through the wind without the enclosure of a steel shell we commonly call “the car.”  For two of those ten years I drove it over the Pali Highway daily to Hawaii Loa College, getting my degree in nursing.  The road is winding, heavily trafficked and almost always wet from the more than frequent mountain rain.  It was dangerous to be sure, however, that never caused me any serious concern.  But, I was severely phobic about taking the motorcycle-driving test.  So for the entire ten years, I never had a license—not even a learner’s permit!

I was sober at that time, and drove carefully, so thankfully I was never cited, and I always wore a helmet.

How I have changed—and didn’t even “try!”

For a while now, I’ve been wanting another motorcycle; Hawaii is the perfect place to own and ride.  I looked for the right size and model, and last week, found it.  I bought the used, Honda Night Hawk, and without a moment’s hesitation, knew I was going to take all the tests! There was no internal argument, no need to rationalize with myself and no big struggle—I just assumed I would “do the right thing” this time…and I have.  Today I passed the first exam and received my official learner’s permit, which makes me ‘legal.”

I’m going to spend some time and wonder where the fear went.  I want to reflect and ponder on the deep change that has given me unbidden strength and acceptance.  I don’t know where all that will lead aside from some private insight, but I already know that I have appreciation for all that has been unfolding in my life; overcoming obstacles I’m not yet even aware of.

I’m also going to wonder on the many ways all of us are maturing, healing and growing into our wholeness and are unaware until some situation arises that calls us to respond in a better way—and we will–automatically, naturally, with grace and peace.

{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }

Manami Hisashi May 31, 2010 at 8:53 am

Congratulation for your motorcycle license!

I had a chance to ride Honda Goldwing from Manhattan, N.Y. to Hilton Head Island, S.C. last year when I was in S.C. That was a fantastic experience!!! I loved it!!

Your story makes me to get a motorcycle license and motorcycle. I used to ride a Kawasaki motorcycle in Japan over 25 years ago. One day, I fell down from my motorcycle at the stoplight because I could not reach my feet to the road. And I could not lift up my motorcycle. I remember that I was so embarrassed and still feel fear now days…

I have been wanting a motorcycle very much and want to feel the wind. Instead of motorcycle, I have been doing “ kite surfing” so that I can feel the wind. But it is not the same. I know that I still want to have a motorcycle….
Before I go to take the license, I need to practice “THAT WAS THEN and THIS IS NOW” and lots of affirmation. (^o^)

June June 4, 2010 at 8:31 pm

Isn’t it a wonderful revelation to actually acknowledge and appreciate change, sometimes I feel I too am flying
but then I crash to the earth and must start all over again. I know when you feel past pain I can feel it too, so
what is the secret to letting go and flying free, without your motor cycle. What keeps us grounded. I have
never not been moved by you, from whence does this gift come, every word you speak resonates within me
and yet I feel a veil through which I cannot pass. The closest I come to meditation is when I listen to Bach’s
organ music or Beethoven’s requium mass which lifts me to the heavens. Why is contentment so difficult
to obtain.
Congratulations on conquering your fear – you are a Prince among men and I am blessed by your wisdom.

Jackie Okun March 20, 2011 at 12:51 am

Good for you, my friend. I just wrote a laragraph or two and somehow it disappeared. Let’s talk!

Leave a Comment

Previous post:

Next post: