All weekend I’ve been thinking in these sort of maxims: “What’s better than X? Nothing.” Or interchanging “nothing” with “everything.”
My internal dialogue, my monkey mind, uses these tricks to weigh or judge a situation.
I’ve been coasting through a state of living, in the present, that is overflowing with ear-to-ear grins, head-tipped-back laughter, love shining through every pore of my being. It’s as if some sort of switch turned on: I feel the absolute need to share this deep joy that wells up inside me. Instead of tears, I share it with smiles, with hugs, with words of encouragement, with a grateful attitude, with a giggle.
Tonight I coasted to Tremont Tavern for a burger by myself. I cherish these moments in contrast to the moments where I’m never alone. The past week or so has been like that—first starting with my Nashville getaway to Tour de Nash where I floated around feely, then this weekend as many of my dear friends left town and I found myself alone in a few homes.
Among all of these situations, though, I’m reminded there is nothing more freeing than riding a bike. Tonight as the light mist turned in to a heavier rain, I smiled and laughed out loud to myself in the dark. These moments, this form of meditation, whether going uphill, downhill, in the rain, in the cold, in the sunshine or snow, makes life worth living. It feels me with childlike wonder and joy, and helps me laugh a little bit more, smile a little bit bigger, and share a little more love.