Slowing down was exactly what I didn't want.
Slowing down was exactly what I needed.
The space and time to breathe and to be still in a green, beautiful place invited me to consider all that had happened since mid-May, which in turn invited all the doubts and demons related to my career change to come pouring in. I had a sleepless night of tossing and turning and my head was filled with what my Sweetie calls "Cosmic Thoughts". This morning, I got up and knew I needed to get outside and. move around, even just a little. So when Sweetie told me we needed a few things at the little market to make the evening's barley-mushroom soup recipe, I volunteed to hop on one of the loaner bikes and ride over.
It was just what I needed.
I went into the garage where a row of bright orange cruiser bikes was parked along one wall, selected one that looked tall enough (I have long legs and arms), adjusted the saddle height, and took
off. The gearing seemed a little high, until I remembered that cruiser bikes offer more pedaling resistance in order to encourage sit-down, mellow peedaling. Still, I pushed it a little to get my momentm up and move some of my anxiety out of the way. It was only a three-mile round trip, but the pace and the bracing cold -- it was in the mid 40s when I left the house -- helped immensely to
blow out the jittery nerves and improve my mood. Riding along also served to remind me that, in spite of all the unknowns related to my work over the last year and a half, I am not my career. I am fully human, with blood and bones and skin and cold air whooshing through my lungs and whispering past my ears, and my pounding heart and pumping legs all reminding me of my difficult, sweet vulnerability. Sometimes that vulnerability is what I need, if only to remind myseslf to lighten up and give myself a break now and then.
There is a lot more to me than just what i do for a living. Sometimes all it takes to remind me of that is a very simple bicycle ride.