I spent a week in Mexico recently. The funny thing about being an American in a foreign country is that you come to feel, quite honestly, like you could lose yourself. If you could just dress like a local and speak the language, you could walk into town, disappear into the crowd, and no one would ever know. Unfortunately for me, being a pale shade of Northern European and making inevitable cultural faux pas often gives me away, but a girl can dream, can’t she?
Dream of getting lost. Of losing all ties to a lifestyle built and maintained a plane ride away.
Every time we try a new shade of lipstick, a different hairstyle, or even pull some clothes out of the closet we forgot we had, the thought invades our mind: “What secrets are still locked inside me? What else could I be?”
We hate being pigeon-holed into a life we didn’t intend. Into something that just happened to us – something we didn’t plan for – or maybe we did plan for it, only to find out that the plan we made no longer fits. We get…stuck.
We long to express all that we are. But how?
Most of us don’t even know where to begin to look for the clues, but we do know what we like, and maybe that’s the best place to start. Finding your destiny is a lot like following a map. You just have to be able to recognize the landmarks.
Naturally, your landmarks are going to look different than mine, and learning to recognize them is no easy task. It takes time to learn your own inner workings and to trust that knowledge so you can follow this mysterious, built-in guidance system that is programmed to propel us toward our destiny.
I used to remind myself to “follow my heart” until a friend coined the phrase “go where the life is”. I like this, because it reminds me to move toward the things that make me feel alive, and to try to avoid the things that make me feel dead inside.
Because no one wants to be dead before they die.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last fifty years, it’s that passion drives freedom, and doing what you love fuels the drive toward that freedom. Toward figuring out what you’re made of.
Let’s face it, riding a motorcycle is all about freedom. Combine that with a passion for the road, the wind, and a lifestyle that lets you ride unencumbered and the combination is unbeatable.
I don’t know about you, but riding is an almost visceral experience for me, and one that defines me in a way that no other activity ever has. I think it’s that way for a lot of women, especially those who have lived lives defined by responsibility and routine. We’re wired to give and to care. It’s not easy to give ourselves permission to be carefree.
But I dare say a little carefree is exactly what all of us need.
And I’d stake my sanity on it.
Women are starting to take over a huge piece of the motorcycling industry pie – creating a revolution, of sorts. We’ve gone from only being allowed on the back of a man’s bike, to riding our own. To demanding bikes and clothes that actually fit us – that look great while still maintaining a certain amount of badass style. Women are taking a once male-dominated sport and saying “I want some of that. And I will have it. My way.”
We continue to refine and define what we want out of the sport, and there’s enough room for all the different expressions of that freedom, from dirt bikes to baggers, and everything in between.
So go where the life is.
Stay alive inside.
And ride on toward your own brand of freedom!