He knows how to just listen. I can take all of my
frustrations out on him. He takes the brunt of my anger, fear, hopelessness…and
in his own quiet way; he’ll challenge me to suck it up. Or pedal faster.
Norm’s my bike, if you haven’t caught on. We’ve gotten very
close in the past 6 months. At times he acts like a child, losing a part here,
jamming his chain there. Other times, he acts like a close friend, helping me
escape when I’m just about up to my neck in problems. He’s my baby, plain and
simple. Some people have their cars, or their pets, or a vacuum clean perhaps.
I have Norm.
I really needed him today. I’ve hit the half-a-year
homesickness checkpoint, and there was a delay in pulling out of the station.
This past week, I’ve been bombarded with thoughts and reminders of people back
home, mainly, my best friends. Coming from a family that’s not super
lovey-dovey, I don’t get many “We miss
you! Come back home!” messages. As long as I’m alive and well, that’s sufficient.
Add that to the fact that I hadn’t heard from my best, best
friend for almost 2 months, and I was feeling pretty low. In her defense, she
says she hadn’t received my messages for some weird reason. I’m telling myself
that’s the truth, because I had a good cry this morning, just thinking that
most people took the “out of sight, out of mind” approach to my new life in
Ecuador.
After a second round of tears today, I turned to Norm. Take
me somewhere, anywhere! So I pedaled and pedaled and got lost for a bit, then
found my way back home. The stress seeped down from my cranium, through my
arms, and down into my burning legs, which just kept going and going and going.
Norm loved it; no words needed, just pedal to the metal, and we were off.
Fueled by womanpower, we trekked through the ‘burbs of Cuenca, and slowly but
surely, my worries and concerns blew away with the breeze brushing against my
face.
Okay, so maybe I have a somewhat obsessive relationship with
my bike, but it beats shelling out my well-earned dough for some stranger to
listen to me weep on their sofa. I bet that sofa wouldn’t even be comfortable.
It’d probably be some microfiber aqua-colored get-up that only looks chic but
feels like crap. J Look! I’m feeling
better enough to crack jokes!
Everyone has their way to deal with problems; A.K.A. life.
Some people are perfectly fine sitting on a couch and spilling their guts.
Others journal. Some talk to their best buds about it. There are those who turn
to their faith for consolation. Personally, I prefer a combination of all of
these things.
Nobody said life was easy. I believe life can be great! But
great isn’t the same as easy. Everyone faces the highs and the lows. When you’re
far away from the people you care most about, it can be disorienting. Yet, in a
way, I suppose it’s making me stronger. Anyway, I’ve got a lot to be thankful
for; the list keeps growing every day.
You can bet that Norm’s on the list.
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