It was early July of this year, and all of our surroundings felt like a perfectly-tuned symphony of nature and human creation. The changing colors of the evening sky, the fresh, cool air, the twinkling constellations of city lights fading into view, and the chatter and laughter of people relaxing and having fun all created a wonderful scene.
​
We'd spent the whole day in the park, eating our packed lunch in the shade, sightseeing, swimming, and finally, renting bikes as the sun set.

As we rode around the bike paths, exploring, admiring the scenery, we grew more and more adventurous the deeper the sun dipped below the horizon, exploring winding woodsy paths, until we thought better of it and made our way back to the familiar, well-lit, well-paved plaza.
​
There, there was plenty of space to roam, and there were plenty of fellow roamers. Some rode bikes, while some rode electric scooters complete with an engine-revving noise. Others were just hanging out, chatting, or meandering along in good company.
​
After a while, I was the only biker left still going in my party, and the general crowd of fellow bikers and scooter-ers had thinned out a bit as well. By then, the city lights were in full view, and the skyline dazzled from across the perimeter of the plaza that spread out over the water's edge. I did laps upon laps by the water and around various landmarks, not feeling shy, not feeling clumsy or awkward about bringing or wearing the pink child-sized bike helmet I'd bought on study abroad back in two-thousand-*cough*, not wondering if my head was too small...none of that mattered, to me or anyone else.
​
Instead, I, and likely most others there, felt free. Carefree. A nostalgic feeling we might have had access to in childhood, if we were lucky, and maybe only in fleeting moments even then.
​
I hadn't expected to feel carefree on that bike ride in the park, nor did I realize I had been carrying around an assumption that I'd reached a point in my life, in the world, that I probably wouldn't feel carefree anymore. But, I proved myself wrong and learned what else could be possible.
​
It's true that both adulthood and the world we live in bring a lot of challenges to living a joyful, carefree life. But those conditions do not have to claim each and every one of our moments.
​
It's these moments that sustain us and remind us we're alive, and what a glorious gift that is.
​
I have various health challenges, but my body and brain showed up for me that day in the park that allowed me to have the energy and capacity for an extended bike ride - a surprise to me most of all. But, I still have incredible moments in my life even when my health isn't at peak. And I have challenging moments regardless of how I'm feeling. Life is imperfect, just like the people who live it.
​
It's these moments, among other things, that we'll be thinking about and reflecting on later on today at Cozy Journaling and Year Reflection. Join us in a pressure-free space to relax and reflect. Lurking and listening welcome. Come as you are and be yourself.
​
Thanks also to those who are participating in Free Email Coaching Week this week! We're having a great time so far. It's not too late to join if you'd like to get unstuck toward a clear new year! Just respond to this message to get started.