i've been searching for a strap to monitor the beating of my heart on a digital device that tells me just where on the planet i am, how fast my bike and i are moving, and how many times a minute my feet go round on the pedals, let alone the percent gradient up or down, and maybe even what street or turn is coming up.
numbers scare me.
i've been searching and researching matching rims and tubular tires and tubular tire gluing techniques and the weight specs and bearing recalls and tying and soldering methods for a wheel that will match the one i just spent a couple weeks' worth of grocery money on.
and all this, so that i can specifically go faster and know just how much faster i am going.
isn't it about the journey?
i recently made a commitment, to the people with whom i work, and to myself, to feel more. the corollary of this commitment is that i will allow myself to also show more, my feelings. i was famous for these things once. huge heart. no strap on it. no gauge. no holding back when leaving the optimal zone of feeling. pretty much zero to sixty in a second. made me a lot of enemies, bemused friends, and persuaded lovers. there must be something irresistible about someone who feels so much, so helplessly.
in hopes of survival to my next couple of decades, i gradually (by which i mean: in huge, painful drops over time and pitfalls) decreased how much i showed my feelings, and eventually, how much i felt. nearly impossible, i would assume, but all of a sudden i couldn't cry anymore. literally, but more importantly, figuratively. years would go by without a tear. and feelings took on designations - feel for that, let that slide, etc.
i've been numb for a little while.
there's a lot that gets done when numb. there is efficiency. there is productivity. there is the tightening of everything because those fragile, wet emotions aren't getting in the way with their messy crushability. things get tossed and recycled and given away. things are not bought. priorities bring about the achievement of goals. there is some laughter, but mostly, there is a stern resolve to press on. if only i had more to show for the numb years.
recently, i was reminded that i should feel more. i make good things when i feel. i take good pictures; write good words; am less stern and more convincing. i believe more, in everything, especially myself. slowly, slowly, i am coming back to this. it's pretty good. the color is returning. things are regaining vibrancy. the filters are off. and everything is a little more important.
so i'm waiting, impatiently, for everything now. i'm not holding too many things back, though it is winter in toronto and there's only so far one can go to 'live out loud'. tubular carbon wheels in the mail. earning them, gram for gram, in sweat on the trainer in a dark kitchen while the children sleep. poetry i wrote once and will find again. photographs to be made. valentine's day. looking people in the eye and having the time to be honest with them. not surrendering. not saving 'the real me' for another time more deserved of it. not holding back. not.