If 6 Was 9

Big highs, big lows. That's what I would say if I had to sum up my life in one sentence. I have had periods of brief stability, but mostly I am in transition to one extreme or the other. Self inflicted? Certainly. Exaggerated? Probably. Perception is reality and we all live in a construct of what we think we feel, need, see, hear, and more than anything: who we are.

Today I am well. I had the best week of cycling since March. I feel fit. I do not morn the past and my melancholy has subsided. As the pedals turn, so to do the wheels. The healing increases with the miles. This is not my default setting, so I see different colors than normal. Things smell vibrant. I hear the forest. I am thankful to be allowed to wander the trails.

I ride with caution and with a sense of gratitude. You must believe me when I say: I never thought I would make it back, I just hoped to improve. For the first time in a very long time, I have a hopeful view. My world changed over night. My boys are both in high school, and are not the people they were last summer. They surprise me everyday in appearance and in attitude. All our investments in them have started to bear fruit. All is flowing and the trick is not to disrupt the momentum. Do the dishes, get the kids, clean the kitchen, throw in some laundry, rake a pattern in the rocks, revel in the task, and not the outcome. The moment is here, the moment is gone, equal parts of nothing and something, all in balance for now. The miles are the reward, not the burden.

I know, I know, go with me on this one. It usually comes up tails.

W.B.Z.N.