Sundays

Sometimes I wonder if I really am weird or if I just absorb more of what goes on everyday. For I just can’t stop thinking, questioning, wondering. Leaving me in this thought trance, helplessly clinging to feeling the emotion of the previous moment, unable to walk on and be in the present. Things can be so good, so right, so damn perfect and then I mess it all up with my own head. And all I want is to let go of it and be free, to feel. I mean knowing you want something and being unable to actually let go and experience it makes you feel kind of powerless, sort of pathetic. Now disappointment hangs heavy on my head, when I could be flying up in the clouds, beyond.

Luckily the rest of the day is about bike riding. Riding bikes in the woods, up into the mountains along some sweet trails. Still distracted by my thoughts, regrets, the lingering sadness within myself, I am not all there on the bike. Railing corners, cleaning some climbs, feeling the sweat and ache of the body pedaling away, feels so good, so right, but still not as crisp and clean with my head stuck up my ass.

Sometimes I truly wonder if I am being challenged. I mean is it my calling to always be in doubt, stuck in thought, regretful about my actions and decisions. Why not simply revel in the joy, accept the good and bad and move on instead of this constant self critique. Perhaps it is my desire to try, to always do better, to seek the impossibility of perfection. Sounds like an ok idea, but living it sucks. Sometimes I simply wish to be happy and satisfied and drop this terribly insistent thinking, questioning, doubting and just be.

Still stuck in my head and hoping to cleanse myself I GO ride some more. Dirt roads, one trail, more dirt roads, some pavement. Solo, just me and the bike. The flowers are jumping out of the green hillsides, the mountains glow with summer growth and the remaining snow. It is trying to rain, almost but not quite. Smoke fills part of the sky from the raging wildfires not too far away. I am still stuck in my thoughts, but the ride feels good. I hammer the climbs pushing myself pretty hard. I stop and take pictures of the flowers. I think about how lucky I am. I think about the wildfires and the folks fleeing their homes and working hard to fight the flames. They are dealing with far more serious things than I. I feel silly dwelling on my shit, my petty personal shit. But I just can’t let go of my melancholy, what a dumb thing this is, somehow I simply can’t shake it off. Not sure how this could make me a better person, or improve my life, but I know I will get through it. Just got to keep getting out there, pushing, trying, sweating, for nothing heals like exercise. Plus it gets me out there seeing the life that grows, strives and persists around me, and that is not weird at allImage

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s