rhiannonstone: (the real me)
This, so very much:
We need to move away from this constant need of coming across as calm, cool and collected. We weren’t built to be calm, cool, and collected. If we were, it wouldn’t feel so fucking exhausting all the time. It would, you know, come naturally to us. You know what comes naturally to human beings though? Being open, being messy, being raw, being unfiltered, having lots of feelings. Why should we have to stifle our true nature? Let’s go after the things we want, let’s love each other brutally and honestly, and not worry about the consequences. Let’s release the feelings inside of us and let them land somewhere special. Otherwise, we might have a lifetime of longing in front of us.

—Ryan O’Connell, You Need To Go After The Things You Want
rhiannonstone: (bike)
Last Sunday morning I met up with [personal profile] byronium, [personal profile] gayathri, Valerie, [personal profile] princeofwands, and JG to scope out next week's Tour de Peninsula route. It was my first ride of that length and it was a pretty difficult one for me--especially after I had a spectacular spill before it even started.

Only I would crash and end up bloody and with the wind knocked out of me before a ride. And then get back up and ride over 20 miles anyway. After helping me tend to my wounds after the crash, Byron asked me if I felt okay to ride after the crash and I told him I'd feel worse if I didn't. I know now that that was the right thing to do, but I wasn't so sure by the end of the day on Sunday. It was a harder blow to my body and confidence than I'd realized, and I didn't quite recover. Having to navigate some truly terrifying traffic right at the beginning, and then encountering an unexpectedly steep and lengthy climb after that, didn't help. I couldn't catch my breath, I couldn't stop panicking, and I spent the first 13 miles or so really upset but determined to keep going no matter what. My wonderfully supportive friends kept checking in on me to make sure I was okay and ask me what I needed, and I didn't know how to answer them because I didn't know if I was okay, or what I needed other than their support, plenty of water and energy noms, and my own stubbornness, all of which I had. The last 7 miles were much easier, even with a little unexpected off-roading, so I was finally able to calm down, but I still wasn't sure how I was going to make it to the end.

But, somehow, I did! And I hurt like a motherfucker for days, and still have what can only be described as some gnarly road rash. And for some crazy reason, I'm doing it again tomorrow. I'm really nervous about the hills, and about being the slowest person there, and about the dynamics of riding in a large group, and about a million other little things, but I am at least comforted by the fact that it can't possibly be any worse than last weekend.
rhiannonstone: (the real me)
Once again, Jonathan Carroll posts beautiful poetry that pierces me right through the heart. I am always worried about being too much.

The Too Much
Christa Bell

I
Couldn’t have been more beautiful
Than I was last night.
I couldn’t have been sexier,
Juicier,
Or more luscious.
My ass couldn’t have been bigger
Or glowed more brightly.
My teeth couldn’t have been whiter,
Skin softer,
Hair shinier.
I couldn’t have smelled any sweeter,
Been nicer,
Skinnier,
Funnier,
Or more holy.

And still I was not enough
For you.
‘Not enough,’
My friends tell me,
Will never be my issue.
They say it’s ‘the too much’
That leaves lovers like me
Strangled by our own question marks.

You see—
Some women love lightly,
Like whispers wrapped in spun sugar.
And these are the ones who make it so hard
For the blue-black molasses
Ever-lasting taffy kind of love
That overwhelms the tongue.
They make it hard for those of us who,
Due to circumstances beyond our control,
Are destined to always
Over-love with a vengeance. Read more... )

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