Today was a day…that turned out entirely different than I imagined it would.
Last night, I went to bed, set my alarm for my usual 5 a.m., and had a 6 a.m. yoga class on my calendar.
This morning, I (a bit begrudgingly I admit) woke up at my alarm, drank my hot lemon water, and breathed in deeply my Wild Orange and Peppermint oils (yeah, I bought into the DōTERRA train…and I LOVE IT). I got dressed. I slipped my mat and my mala (just made my own…more on that coming soon!) into my shoulder bag. I hopped on Henry and rode to the studio. I locked up my bike. I went to class. Sweated my ass off (I wish–not really). Fought with my inner comparison gremlins (definitely more on this later). Lost to the super flexible and very pretty blonde in front of me. Thanked the teacher. Congratulated myself for starting my morning off right. Walked outside and…
…Henry was gone.
My beloved bicycle–which I ordered, built, outfitted, and came to love as my faithful carpool companion–was nowhere to be found. Neither was the seat of the bicycle next to mine…or, more accurately, where mine formerly was.
And, to be honest, my first thought was this: Fuck.
But my second, and I say this in the service of authenticity and nothing more, was this: They must have needed it more than I did. Should have left the helmet too.
And as I trudged to the nearest Capital Bikeshare, because that was all I could do aside from calling an Uber, I was sad.
The $300 loss for a sharp-looking-yet-budget-friendly two-wheeler was palpable, but, moreover, I just really, REALLY liked him. I mean, I named my bike. I was attached.
And then that’s when the third thought hit: Love people; use things. (Mad credit to The Minimalists.)
I rode home on the far-less-slick-and-very-clunky red tank alternating between those three thoughts, and they’ve basically been on repeat all day. I think the sadness is winning out currently, but I also just can’t help but send up some silent prayers (which is a weird concept these days in general for me but still a natural reaction) for the person who took my bike. Hoping they used it to get somewhere important. Or to buy something they really needed.
I know it’s not likely.
But, I can’t help but be thankful for those thoughts. Grateful for the reassurance, even on a day when I felt short of something from the get-go, that it’s happening. That the stuff I am reading and the things I am meditating on and the work that I sometimes I don’t feel like I am doing despite all of my efforts to is actually getting through.
Because I have a new default.
And even if Henry is gone, and I have no idea how to manifest another…he was good to me. Even in his going.
And to the person who took him: please, wear a helmet.