balancing act


I've been thinking about balance a lot lately, how we are all just trying to get from one point to another with our pride and grace and limbs intact. Sometimes it feels like I am always hurtling toward a rough, hard surface that will skin my forearms and fill my mouth with the taste of blood. Sometimes it feels like I need four wheels, maybe even six, maybe even eight. Sometimes it feels like I need to be trained again—to slow down, to stay upright, to stop.

And yet most days are light. Happy. Good. Most days I am luckier than I deserve to be, although who's to say how much luck anyone deserves? Most days I can even close my eyes for a second, loosen my grip on the handlebars. The ground will feel steady beneath me, safe. My feet can pedal on their own; I am free to do other things like think and dream and love. Love, especially. I am light. Happy. Trying to be good. Life is one huge balancing act but know that life is also adept at finding ways to balance itself out. Trust that some days will be gritted teeth and clenched fists, all iron and pavement, and on other days—most days, I hope—you can cruise.