Life is a cycle ride. You can twist that metaphor so many ways. You never really forget how to, even if you check out of actively doing it for a bit. It’s about balance. It’s when you stop thinking about it & just do it.
Would death be when you put the bicycle back on its stand then? What about when you do that just to take a break, from the bicycle supporting you & you holding it? Who is really holding who up? Maybe the bicycle & you are one, not two and the riding only exists in that equal communion.
So many reactions have come in since my friend @jedikhare passed away on Sun, 1 Aug. Many of those reactions my own.
I’ve been out bicycling since then. Learning to leave the shocks behind, instinctively lifting when I approach a speedbreaker & pushing on to newer frontiers. It shows in my emotions as well. From the splashes of other people’s rushing to the nicks from their careless anxieties, a bicycle ride (or indeed, life) must also be the marks that other people leave on you.
I considered quitting @clubhouse. It hurts too much to care so much for people, I cried. It also hurt to learn to be one with that bicycle. The scraped knees, the bruised elbows. And the journey into trusting. Gravity. Balance. And that the world you can’t see will not run you over.
I didn’t ride yesterday. I couldn’t. I also didn’t do the dishes, didn’t eat, didn’t smile. And I cried into my pillow, in the shower, over cooking, things I don’t normally do. Today was easier. Knowing what makes my breath catch. It helped the the sun was shining. And then it was setting one foot on a pedal, taking the other off the ground, trusting in gravity & the air and moving forward.