Living in Wonder

I haven't been to a family reunion in about 5 years and riding to Washington state on my bike has been on my list of things to do for quite a few years.  Originally I thought I would have been taking US 12.  From tip to stern, US 12 starts in downtown Detroit, Michigan and ends in Montesano, Washington, a 10 state, 2650 mile, 50 hour trip and would take you through the Clearwater National Forest and the Bitterroot Mountains in Montana...BEAUTIFUL.  Instead I am starting in the south and going through some areas that can change so quickly it's amazing.

My bike just eats up the road on day two and I am out of New Mexico in only a few hours and crossing into Colorado.

Colorado is an ever changing sight.  Flatlands and cattle country to my right, hills and mountains to my left.  On I-25, I pass by the remains of, what looks to be, an old mission but it is on the other side of the freeway.  I want to stop and find a road up to it but my time is not on that leasurely of a schedule so I move on and opt instead to stop at a scenic overlook. 

I run into, what seems to be, a elderly father and daughter on a trip.  He notices my bike and we talk about the one subject that always seems to come up, my riding alone.  I laugh and explain that I am never alone because Crazy Cow is on every trip I make, I also explain that I have faith that God will get me to where I need to be, when I need to be there.  He seems pretty happy with that answer and he and his daughter walk off.

Back on the road I head into Pueblo, Co, where I stop once again for gas and find myway to Outpost Harley Davidson (http://www.outposthd.com//).  There I meet one of the nicest sales ladies of ANY Harley dealer, Dina.

Dina is about my height and can't weight more than a 100 lbs soaking wet and she rides a little 883 sporty that has been bored out to 1200.  She, like me, loves to ride, she loves to be up on that bike and riding.  Being as tiny as she is, though, she is skeptical that she could ride anything bigger and she was amazed that I was riding the size of bike that I was.  We walked over to the show room floor and I had her get on a Fatboy Low.  We talked about her fear of dropping the bike, not being able to pick it up, and the correct way to pick up a bike.  Ultimately, I don't think she is going to move forward in getting a bigger bike because she is worrid of the "what if's".

I don't have that problem.  I live by the motto, "Never be afraid to try something new, never fear change".

Why do we limit ourselves? Why do we allow fear to dictate our lives?  Why are we consumed with the dread of what could happen, instead of the wonder of what just happened?  Why do we obsess over the anxiety of the unknown instead of being inspired by edification.  Try to imagine where we would be right now if, as toddlers, we failed to take our first steps because we were afraid to fall, afraid to fail.

Stop living in fear and start living in wonder at what you find.