Being the maypole

I opted for yoga rather than a ride yesterday and encountered a teacher with a message.  She had tons of positive energy which usually would irk me, but on this particular morning I found it charming and vital.  Perhaps because it echoed a message I'd heard the previous evening about life being comprised of tragedy and joy; there's no getting around either, you just have to embrace both and be grateful for the opportunity.

The yoga teacher opened with a story about her child's upcoming maypole celebration at school.  The good old maypole tradition involves dancers holding ribbons that dangle freely from the pole's center and weaving them around the pole until they are no longer free.  This obvious male/female symbol symbolizes balance, much like the yin yang.  The teacher suggested that the ribbons are like the positive and negative aspects of life weaving together and that in our practice we should strive to be the pole, solidly attached to the ground and withstanding all that temporary setbacks and joy life hands us.

After yoga I went to the boy's baseball game where a kid lost his shit and a 50 year old man from the other team baited and yelled at him.  The boy's father yelled back and a shouting match ensued.  I tried to be the pole, but I wanted to puke and I don't think that's the point of the pole.  It's baseball you freaks.  Way to set an example. 

I haven't been riding my bike.  For the last 2 weeks I've been on maybe 3 proper rides.  I've been too sad to ride. Too many negative ribbons are flying around and I can't seem to grab a good one.  I know all of this will pass, but it seems relentless.

I'm mourning the loss of a friend who died after a valiant attack against that bastard disease cancer.  I'm mourning the loss of my career which is no longer viable in the current culture (both immediate and greater societal context).  I'm mourning the loss of a 26 year old cyclist I don't even know.  I'm mourning the loss of civility and kindness in our world that has been taken over by self-centered Visigoths. I'm worried about my father who nearly had renal failure Friday night and is currently in the hospital awaiting news about where he will be going to live after his release.  I'm mourning the abandonment of principles by people who have nothing to gain by forsaking them but everything to lose. I'm saddened and sickened by how some of my friends have been treated, not just at their jobs but on their bikes (Rolf--I hope you're feeling better and that the asshole who hit you and left you on the road in a broken mess will rot in hell).  I miss my mother who has been dead nearly 13 years but who I think about every day.

I don't feel like forgiving people their transgressions.  I know this only hurts me in the long run, but I am tired of the relentless bad behavior and don't intend to forgive it any time soon.  I am with Nick Carraway--I want the world to stand at moral attention.  It's getting harder to accept.  I just want to scream, "ENOUGH!"

In the meantime, I'm not riding my bike.  I don't know why I'm depriving myself of this joy.  Maybe because it became too important and kept all the crap I'm feeling hidden.  Maybe I use cycling like a drug and, as is the case with all drugs, it no longer works.  I don't know.  I just know that everything is out of balance and it's very difficult to be the maypole when the negative ribbons strangle the positive.

Breathe.