Walk up that hill, baby.

Yesterday, I was running errands around Nashville via my super fancy bike. I deposited money at the bank, shipped some packages at the post office, and then made some art at a cafe (actually just a hotel with free coffee in the lobby). On the way home, I stopped at the boujee market and grabbed the cheapest fancy kombucha I could find. Gut healing season, baby.

Anyways, I started pedaling home and realized I was just a bit cooked. These legs are slowing down ever so slightly since 24. So I pedaled a little slower, shifted the gears down, and cruised on the sidewalks. By the time I approached the hill that takes me up to our apartment I had gone about 8 miles already and didn’t want to bike up it. I briefly thought about “locking in” and shredding up the hill, but then a different and more simple solution presented itself to me: Walk up that hill, baby. So I did. And I even cracked open my kombucha and took lil sips between steps.

I’ve biked up that hill hundreds of times. I knew I could do it, but yesterday I didn’t want to. Who wins when I wake up the next morning sore because I over exerted myself? There’s other ways I like to stay healthy these days. Like getting my pre and probiotics in, eating real food, moseying around with Basil, and managing my stress better. Essentially: Nervous system regulation, baby. It’s becoming more clear that my last year of writing was pretty much all about this.

I’m trying to unlearn the grindset I absorbed in my younger years. The message was that good things come through an abundance of individual effort—like weight loss, achieving my artistic dreams, even being liked by people. There was an idea that anything coming easy won’t be ultimately rewarding or pure—that I can only be at peace when I get to the top of the hill. But doesn’t that perspective seem quite contrary to Jesus’ words about his yoke being easy and his burden being light? More than a grindset, I want an easy yoke. Even if so little, I want my hands to be a little more open every day. I want to move slower, allowing myself kindness as I journey up the hill. 

Speaking of running up that hill, or rather walking up it, did any of you catch the last two seasons of Stranger Things? I’m thinking about the absolute lack of haste many of the monologuing characters would show when Vecna could’ve struck at any moment. That’s the pace I’m going for these days. Sometimes it makes me bummed that my healing work is to slow down, but it’s my work none-the-less. Sure, there’s a time for everything, but especially now, I know I’m to enjoy this easy yoke. I shan’t “lock in.” I shall…

Lay my head down, take a rest

Work’s done mostly, did my best

Made a baby with my best friend

My life is a small protest

…Walk up that hill, baby