Birthday Reflections

We plant seeds.

Everyday as we live our lives, whether knowingly or unknowingly, we plant thoughts in the minds of friends, new acquaintances, and co-workers. Our ideas nourish and support the opinions of like minded individuals, and expose spectators to new perceptions. Over time these interactions teach us, allow us to spread our leaves, and root ourselves in what resonates with us.

Like the growth of plants our roots search for nourishment in the world around us, and there are indeed different ways in which this happens. Plants have different sorts of roots, mostly classified into the tap or fibrous root categories. Tap roots have one main root that secures them securely to the earth, sending out weaker roots in search of more nutrients. Fibrous roots, on the other hand, send out multiple roots that grow in intricate patterns, equally strong and equally weak.

My root system is somewhere in between. It grows much like "quack grass." A fibrous weed that is highly adaptable and fast to mature. In the Northwest this common weed is a pain to get rid of, because it actually grows from the roots it puts down. The plants themselves are reincarnations of each other, every new one nourishing and supporting the other.

When pulled from the ground quack grass reminds me of a timeline. Here's where the plant was born, it went to primary school, traveled to other countries, went to college and started struggling to understand life without the support of it's parents. Each new experience brought it farther from it's beginning, but still connected it to it's original roots.

If you were to look at my life thus far, like the roots of a quack grass plant, you would see a timeline of experiences that affixes me to different places. In turn my experiences inform my perception of the world, and gives me new roots that support me as I continue on.

I feel so lucky to have experienced all that I have in just 25 short years of life. Now past root systems have lead me to the Northwest. The roots I have put down here connect me to many wonderful people, and allows me to explore new interests while expanding on some old ones.

Thank you to everyone who helped me celebrate being a quarter of a century year old during the week of March 23rd! I so appreciate you, and the great adventures we have been on. I am looking forward to finding out what happens in a new year of life.

A Coincidental Story

Fate. Happenstance. Destiny. Karma.

Being in the right place at the right time.

This morning I was late leaving my house. I woke up late, lingered over my coffee and cereal before struggling into my bike clothes, boiling some eggs for lunch and rushing out the front door 15 minutes later than planned. I rode my normal bike route, cursing the southern wind hitting me in the face and loving the sun poking out from behind the clouds. I hit 50th street which runs parallel to the highway headed towards University district to catch Roosevelt down to Eastlake. Mid-way up 50th street I heard a faint "help" cut my mental discourse. I thought I hadn't heard anything, but decided to turn around anyways. When I glanced behind me I saw two feet hanging out from over the guard rail.

My heart jumped, I stashed my bike and ran across the road to find a girl trapped between a bed of blackberry bushes, her bike and the guard rail. She was obviously shaken. In a state of shock myself, I asked her what had happened and if she was ok. She explained that she had swerved (for what reason I don't know), hit the rail and fallen over. The way she had fallen looked almost like the blackberry bushes had grown over her in the short time she'd been stuck. First I struggled to get her bike free of her body and the spikey black berry prickers. Her bag was next before I finally helped her to pull herself free of the bushes clenched grip.

The whole process took about 10 minutes, during which time three cars passed us without stopping. To put this scene in perspective: I was standing on the edge of the road in a bright red jacket (which makes me pretty visible). The girl I was helping was completely trapped in back of the guard rail struggling to pull herself upright by using my weight. No one even rolled down their window to ask if we were ok. If I hadn't ridden my bike by, I don't know when she would have gotten help.

Fate- being where you're supposed to be, without realizing you are supposed to be there. I've spoken with people who believe whole heartedly that there are forces in the world that predestine certain events in our lives. I've also spoken with people who believe that it's a matter of mathematics. My love of fantasy and mystery bias me towards the more idealistic perspective. I like to think that things do happen for a reason... even if they can be measured by numbers, and that there are reasons we find ourselves in certain situations.

I'm glad I was late for work today. If I hadn't taken my time this morning, left late and turned my bike around to figure out if I heard someone say help... it might have been a long time before the biker freed herself (there's no real way to know). Matter of fact what if it hadn't been me that rode by but someone with headphones on who wouldn't have heard a yell for help.

Besides feeling that I was supposed to be on 50th to help this girl, I was disappointed that nobody else stopped to help us. Drivers, pedestrians, fellow bike commuters pay attention when you're out! If there are people on the side of the road who look like they're in trouble, take a few minutes to ask them if they need help. It just may be that you are supposed to be there.

side note: Considering my own recent bike accident, it felt good to give back and help another biker in need.