This morning I biked to the George Washington Bridge and back. By myself. Which is something I never thought I'd do. I had plans to ride with a friend but at the last minute something came up and she couldn't make it.
I could have gone to yoga.
I could have worked on the many projects I should be working on.
I could have cleaned my apartment, taken the puppy for a long walk, caught up on bills and paperwork.
Instead, I got on my bike and headed to the west side highway planning to ride to 125th Street and back. But, as I approached Fairway and saw the bridge in the not too distance, I kept going.
There was a moment, as I entered a secluded part of the path, way up north, tall leafy trees casting dappled shade, birds chirping, not a soul, a car, a sign of urban life anywhere, all I could do was laugh. It was perfect. Beautiful to the point of almost unbelievable.
I was happy.
I am happy.
This is a really lovely place. Feeling brave enough to tackle things that mere months ago I would never have considered. To push my body hard. To push my ego even harder. To not be driven to accomplish "things" but instead revel in the intangible.
There was another moment, as I flew past tennis courts that I sensed what enlightenment was. Not that I'm there. Not that I think I ever will be. But it flitted past and I felt, saw, knew it's possible to be beyond yourself, to let go of the trappings of what you think you're supposed to be doing and swim in the bigness of it all.
I had a really good morning. And I'm going to bask in it as long as I can.