Grounded

This post is from almost exactly a year ago. Before COVID, of course. I think sometimes my whole purpose in writing is just to send support to my future self, and thus I found these words comforting to re-read (after a Thanksgiving Day that was different and hard and ultimately beautiful in its own way). You may, too.

There is tension in transition, and I am feeling it as everything in my life is changing.

Traveling at the Speed of Bike, as always, serves as a critical and continual reconnection to my journey — literally, metaphorically, and spiritually — and neither cold nor rain nor winds are excuses to which I will capitulate right now, even if all I can do some days is just a lap around the block or at the nearby park.

There are moments, such as this one (pictured), where the beauty and glory of life (even in its pain and sadness and societal madness) overwhelms me.

No matter how long the to-do list or how uncomfortable or frightening the twists and turns I’m experiencing, I remind myself to be fully present, to be honest and open, and to embrace the road ahead with however much grace I can muster.

I am somewhere new and unfamiliar. And yet the simple, rhythmic movement of feet on pedals still somehow, miraculously, keeps me grounded — and moves me forward.