I started writing something else for today’s post.
Hours in, I scrapped it and decided to keep pondering. The topic lacks focus. And so does my mind, which has been running jagged lately.
Instead, today I’ve decided to keep the post simple and short. My mountain bike got fixed earlier this week and I haven’t had a chance to take it outside for a ride. And so, I think I’ll do that today.
Cycling is what I imagine it’s like having a therapist. I’ve never hired an actual, licensed therapist, but when I’m on a bike, I pray. I think. I articulate thoughts that keep me awake at night. I dream; I recount dreams. I confess; I forgive. I work through shortcomings. I promise to do better. I laugh. I remember; I forget.
And I write.
And so, I think I’ll do that today. So that tomorrow my words have better focus and my actions have better outcomes.
So that I may better love my loved ones.
Amen to that. Bikes are cheaper than weekly therapy... at least that's what I tell myself.
I visit at least one of my four therapists every day. The best way to escape the insanity of living indoors.