Riding curves is an art, and on this northern Nevada mountainside I finally did something beyond a doodle. The road was carved into the mountain and traversed the slope in curves and twists. The edge dropped off just feet from where my thigh cut through the open air, solid earth giving way to canyons and valleys. I leaned deeply into each turn, beaming, in joy and bliss and concentration - immersed in the exquisite thrill of being synchronized with the road and the ride.
In every curve there’s a moment that feels out of control. A common reflex stemming from fear, from the feeling of loosing control, is to squeeze the brakes in the center of the curve. Yet if fear is allowed in, trouble often follows. The key to riding curves is in the acceleration, not the breaking. We are meant to join forces with the momentum. A slight, steady increase in speed helps maintain the desired course. Curves ask us to lean into the abyss, to understand that letting go a little is what carries us through. Mastery comes from trusting enough to look beyond where you can see.