“It isn’t what you have or who you are or where you are or what you are doing that makes you happy or unhappy. It is what you think about it.”
― Dale Carnegie
I think a lot when I’m on the bike. Reflective, as in a shadow’s outline.
In 2020, that process was not always beneficial. Politics, pandemic and my own gloomy thoughts and self-righteous opinions stuck deep in parts of the brain while the limbs and heart were trying to pump out stress and enjoy the view.
On really bad days, I swore sufficiently when alone in the midst of a woods or when I knew no other bikers were near. I tried to squelch primal screams because with my luck, someone would call 911 and say, “I think someone is being murdered.” Then I would have to explain myself to the police officer, being an employee of a government correctional agency. And I would have to explain the “disturbing the peace” citation I received from said police officer to my boss.
This year, I vow, to think differently.
While we’re now in pandemic vaccine mode and the nefarious threats of hate groups and people who wear tin hats are still with us, I am clearly calmer and more peaceful in this new year.
In addressing today’s quote, I have a home, food on the table, friends, family, a needy cat, and a bike.
I am an older, nerdy, tallish woman who takes her faith and chocolate seriously.
I live in the midwest, in a community of several cities and towns and a river running through it, where we shovel snow in the winter and wonder why summer isn’t six months long.
I do many things, from biking to writing to reading to cooking, to volunteering, to laying on the couch and watching mindless TV. My cat cries that I don’t do enough for him, but that’s a story only he can conjure up.
What do I think about all of this?
When I took the first bike ride of 2021 last Saturday, I felt contended. Joyful. Blessed. A little overdressed. A little wet from the melting snow ponds on the trail. Grateful that higher-than-normal temperatures allowed for a February bike ride in Wisconsin (which is super-moon rare).
Other than missing family, friends and hugs in continuation, I have nothing to complain about. Not really. Life could be worse, as I see often online and on the nightly news. Having a chipped nail or headache, cat fur under the bed, food boredom, wearing a mask, or running out of toilet paper at an inappropriate time is nothing. Nothing at all. They are minor annoyances, not awful life-sucking occurrences.
I am happy.
I am sound.
I must be.
Thinking this will be a year when the brain, limbs and heart all enjoy the view and the journey unrestrained, without any curse words or screams.
Linda G. Hill is the Queen of One-Liners and rules over her kingdom of followers. Check out today’s post and commit yourself to join the Queen’s one-liner army because there’s no fighting or blood, only comradery and fun with words.