On the mornings when the gauntlet is thrown down…

I squeezed in every moment of sleep. Waking up feeling refreshed, I got ready, found an outfit that was perfect, and made my way to meet a friend at a coffee shop. Whimsically navigating Queen street on my bicycle, I parked it and had a leisurely conversation over Americano’s.

Noticing it was time to get to work, I left the shop, only to find that someone had locked their lock to my bike. Just the lock. Not even with a bike attached. Someone had just locked their lock on my bike. Certainly the actions of a sadist or some absent-minded soul.

I was dumbfounded. Then I was angry (which is a composite of being upset at the inconvenience, sad that I wouldn’t have my bike for the day, and pissed that I’d have to use the TTC on the hottest day of the year). I questioned a man sitting on a bench who was at the perfect vantage point to witness the infraction, who just nodded and indicated he’d watch my bike in universal pointing language, since our attempt at finding a common verbal language was not possible.

I ranted to my friend still in the coffee shop. Being more grounded in that moment, she reminded me that it really wasn’t a big deal and that it probably meant I wasn’t meant to have my bike today. *blank eye stare*

On an emotional scale of “at Peace with it” to “Rob Ford Temper Tantrum” I was at a “annoying hangnail”.

Who would do such a thing? Why would he/she be so inconsiderate (intentionally or not) as to prevent me from using my vehicle?

And why was I holding on to it?

Sure, I could alpha dog it out and spend my time hunting down the ‘culprit’ or find a pair of heavy duty cutters to take care of it. But why? What would be the basis of that focused action? Anger that propelled me to assert “HEY, DON”T MESS WITH ME UNIVERSE! I CALL THE SHOTS HERE!”. What was the resistance toward accepting “what is”? And I saw yet again that whatever exists in that space between “what is” and “what I want it to be” is the thing that disrupts joy and harmony in my life. We’re blessed with the ability to take action in our lives, but when something is done, why spend the time pushing against the stream?

So. I was late for work, and had a streetcar experience that probably best left for another post. My boss didn’t mind that I was late. I didn’t miss anything critical. And the day marches on with whatever intention I choose (I’ll take Happy and Productive for $500 Alex)

And maybe the reason for it all was to get me back to writing here. And that feels like I’m a little bit closer to being me.

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