Life, Lessons & Love

Riding Sunset

March 17, 2019

“You and me, we’ve been hang’n around for the longest time.” — Carly Rae Jepsen - Making The Most Of The Night (Audio)

From our first travels together up and down the West Coast in 2003, Joanne and I shared a dream of living in California. When we relocated to Los Angeles in 2018, I looked forward to riding my motorcycle to my office in West Hollywood. Lane-splitting promised freedom from gridlock and a chance to savor each commute—living the dream.

An early morning test ride showed that I could make it to work on the motorcycle in just over 20 minutes. But the reality during the week was far different. Traffic was dense and unpredictable, but the greater danger came from the people living on the street; every couple of months, a homeless person would jump, fall, or walk into the street in front of my car.

Every trip was a test of perception and patience—a daily choice between reacting out of fear, or relaxing into awareness. There are hard ways and easy ways to learn... I was forced to get clear on what I wanted... fast.

Goals—whether large or small—give life direction. They shape our choices for the year, the week, the day, and even the moment. If we’re thoughtful about them and allow them to evolve, they reveal where we’re headed. As you move forward, be relaxed and aware. Pay attention to everything around you. Move with purpose and care. Let go of willful control and discover the steadier kind that comes from awareness, intention, and trust. This path yields what many call “luck”—but in time, you’ll see it’s more than probability and outcome.

The eight-mile stretch between our apartment in Glendale and my office in West Hollywood—much of it on Sunset Boulevard—turned from a dream to a nightmare. During our eighteen months in LA, I made 1,000 trips—each, at the edge of life and death. Within the first month, my aim became simple: don’t kill anyone today. And my dream of riding my motorcycle to work withered and died.

I explored the limits of probability, observing the motion around me and the emotions within. It became a protracted and violent lesson. But paying attention to all of the motion was illuminating. I paid attention—there was no other choice. A lesson I had learned on the motorcycle, I rediscovered from the safety of my 5,000-pound car. The answer I lived as I navigated time and space was about “moving with grace.”

Something to consider—on Sunset, on a motorcycle, or as you move through your life.