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I should make up a special page for this writing. In effect, what I’m setting out to accomplish by riding my bicycle every day, stopping to write along the way, then posting the results encompasses the following:

Exercise to release the positive effects a workout brings, self-therapy in the writing, peace through the music and personal growth sound clips, and hopefully, some insights for you. My hope wraps itself in the possibility my contemplations, poetry, and other musings may be of benefit, comfort, or offer commiseration with others. I use my iPhone’s notepad to write this post each day. Here goes:

Three days! I’m on a roll – literally. My bicycle rolls down the road with me in semi-control. I’m told your emotions are a choice. This morning I search for the key to make this true…

Today, I’m definitely riding my bike to shift to positive emotional stability. I’m listening – no – feeling my music – Skyline Pigeon at this moment.

On my ride, I pass a school. A basketball, lying there like a divine gift, calls out to me. I stop and shoot hoops for about a half hour. Typically, I’m an 80% free throw shooter. I note I can’t seem to hit more than 50-60%. Then I focus and promptly hit five in a row.

Are there answers to my questions (or troubles) this day?

Yes. First, the basketball lesson of focus. Without it, we stumble around in our trials and question why they haunt us, rather than determine how to extricate ourselves.

This leads me to the conscious conviction to not allow others to dictate my emotions. Tough to accomplish, especially when under attack. I’m going to commitment to taking care of myself, in the form of what heals. In this way, I may then be better able to  present myself in positivity to others.

For me, writing, music, basketball, bike rides, the tender love of a woman, all help set my world right. That last one most likely defines my most desperate emotional troubles.

I realize I must jettison that external barometer of defining myself through other peoples’ perceptions of me and learn better to love myself. Still, I know I will never lose the desire to know love on a level rare and beautiful.

Experiencing this life as an emotionally connected person stands as a blessing and a curse. Sad, my capacity to love languishes in the dead end destiny of emotionally compartmentalized people.

Today’s writing sounds too much like bitching and complaining or feeling sorry for myself. Time to pick it up and strive for a better day

She Who Lives

She who lives, livens my heart,
Lends me peace and joy and smiles.
Morning breezes stroke my soul
My mind drawn to her gentle ways.

She who lives brightens each day
When her words carry softness, kindness, love.
Cloud stampeded skies thrill with myriad paintings,
Reminding me of warmth from abroad.

She who lives bestows her gifts –
Caring, support, understanding, knowledge.
Enlightening and uplifting those in need,
Even as her resolve fades to despair.

She who lives embodies the best we ever know.
She heals atrocities in empathetic sacrifice.
Observe her kindness, her silence, her solitude –
Far away, yet close as a midnight kiss.

Were I to direct a power of universal might,
Set right the wrongs and evils she’s seen,
Power would strengthen her heart in this world
And nurture the soul of she who lives.

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