Saturday, January 21, 2012

Interlude.

It feels pretty weird to be sitting in front of the computer again for the purpose of blasting my life out onto the internet.  And scary.  And cathartic.
 
Why such a long break?  Maybe because I ran out of things to say about heartache, cancer and bike racing.

Or maybe it was the uncharacteristic lack of major drama in my life over the last 8-9 months.  I went to work (which I enjoy), spent time with my friends (whom I enjoy) and rode my bike (what I enjoy).   I drank too much, discovered yoga (which has changed my life-more on that later) and had approximately a relationship and a half.   I survived my first three trials (actually, I killed it) and learned to do a tripod headstand.    2011 was a good year for just keeping the boat afloat and on the river.

I hit a year of remission on October 17, 2011.  I cried a lot that day.

Somehow I feel like I quietly became a different person over the last year, and I'm struggling to describe it in writing (having sat here for 45 minutes now, writing and rewriting and erasing).  I think the best way to put it is that I'm finally learning to get out of my own way.

I'm the most consistently peaceful and stress free that I can remember being, ever.  I still have my moments of excruciating loneliness and road rage, but those are fewer and far between.

So, this blog.   I think the best way for me to work through the new way of being that I am experiencing is to write and to share the things that my damaged self has a hard time expressing in words.

So bear with me for a while as I hash this out and incoherently wax and wane poetic about whatever yoga book I am reading.  But rest assured, I do plan on racing my bike this year and no mountain bike ride is complete without Lindsay crashing into something.