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brynndragonI was on my way home from Davis and my CD-mp3 player randomly decided not to play anymore on route 2. Nothing permanent, I rather suspect the disc is faulty, not the player. So I drove the rest of the way home in silence.
There was once a theory, that we were run by little men in our heads, homunculi, who look out our eyes, hear with our ears, and control our limbs. That was how I felt in that silence, as if I was the homunculus within Sweet Grrl. I felt the road beneath her wheels as if it was caressing my own skin, heard the sounds of the wind whistle past, saw the road before me. Controlling her was the same as controlling my own body, automatic and effortless. I had become more than myself, a being of steel and speed as well as flesh and thought.
I understand an aspect of power that was unclear to me before. Power is not merely the ability to control others, to make others do what you want. It is the ability to be more than you were before, to do what you could not do. In and of itself, power is little - it is all a matter of what you do with what you have become.
I also understand another aspect of my desire to ride a motorcycle. For while I was astonished at the power and oneness of being the homunculus of Sweet Grrl, I crave the feeling of being the heart in the machine. There is a world of difference between controlling limbs via levers and knobs in one's head, and having your own body moving with your vehicle, not entirely sure where one ends and the other begins. . . there will be a learning curve, and a significant penalty for error, but oh to feel that, to feel my body and soul become more than what I am now, more than flesh and blood. . .
There was once a theory, that we were run by little men in our heads, homunculi, who look out our eyes, hear with our ears, and control our limbs. That was how I felt in that silence, as if I was the homunculus within Sweet Grrl. I felt the road beneath her wheels as if it was caressing my own skin, heard the sounds of the wind whistle past, saw the road before me. Controlling her was the same as controlling my own body, automatic and effortless. I had become more than myself, a being of steel and speed as well as flesh and thought.
I understand an aspect of power that was unclear to me before. Power is not merely the ability to control others, to make others do what you want. It is the ability to be more than you were before, to do what you could not do. In and of itself, power is little - it is all a matter of what you do with what you have become.
I also understand another aspect of my desire to ride a motorcycle. For while I was astonished at the power and oneness of being the homunculus of Sweet Grrl, I crave the feeling of being the heart in the machine. There is a world of difference between controlling limbs via levers and knobs in one's head, and having your own body moving with your vehicle, not entirely sure where one ends and the other begins. . . there will be a learning curve, and a significant penalty for error, but oh to feel that, to feel my body and soul become more than what I am now, more than flesh and blood. . .
