Throwback Thursday: Bicycle Randomness, Then and Now

I wrote the original Bicycle Randomness in 2018, a quiet burst of fragmented truths, scribbled from a place of unfiltered feeling, raw and a little chaotic. Today, I still write lists. But the feeling is different. The ground beneath me is steadier now. The words may have changed, but the impulse to name what is real to me remains. I invite you to see a scattered portrait of who I was and who I am. (Bicycle randomness 2018)

• I no longer need to explain myself. That freedom is new, and I welcome it.
• I like who I am becoming, and I do not feel the urge to apologise for who I was. No regrets.
• There is calm in my mornings now, even when I fill the house with music.
• I live in a home that fits me, even if it surprises others. It’s filled with colour, but it is not cluttered, I don’t like knickknacks. There is (unique) art on the walls, I cherish it immensely.
• I still write every day. It is not a ritual. It is a pulse. It is my way to breathe underwater.
• I do not need people to get me. I just want to be met with kindness. I am an acquired taste. Like wine.
• I am not lonely. I just like my own company. It’s unusual, but it is true for me.
• My hair is silver in places, and I like it more than I ever thought I would.
• My kids are growing into themselves. Watching that is a gift. They are amazing people and they fill me with pride.
• I love music that makes me move, that makes me think, that inspires poems. I love music. And I love silence too.
• I show up with care, not with pursuit.
• I still cry sometimes, because I care more deeply now, not less.
• I used to seek meaning in every interaction. Now I let some moments pass.
• Everything happens for a reason, but I no longer need to know or understand it. I know how to accept it and live with it.
• I am good in my job as a preschool teacher. I do not need praise to know it.
• I like small groups, deep talks, and early nights. And late nights too.
• I no longer need to be understood by those who are not willing to listen.
• The contradictions are a part of me. They are a part of my writing too.
• I have boundaries now. They are firm, and they are kind.
• I am not overwhelmed, just selective.
• I do not share everything. That is not secrecy. I just don’t need anyone to know everything anymore.
• I say no with ease. I say yes with care.
• I am not chatty, but I say what I mean and mean what I say.
• I do not chase. I respond.
• I am not looking for drama. I am choosing peace.
• I still love making lists. They keep me grounded.
• I do not regret anything. Every path led me here, and I like this place.
• I still read horoscopes, not for answers, but for the poetry.
• I am more honest now. Especially with myself.
• I no longer ask why. The answer is rarely satisfying.
• I believe in consistency, not intensity. Though I know that I am both. Consistent and intense.
• My softness is deliberate. My strength is quiet.
• I know my worth. I know what I need.
• There are stories I no longer need to revisit to understand myself. It’s called growth or healing. That doesn’t mean that the past doesn’t affect me anymore, I just know how to deal with it from a place of peace.
• I am not waiting. I am living.
• I am not holding on. I am here.
• I am not unfinished. I am just in motion.

(…and I will keep going and going and going.)

Life is a work in progress. We evolve and change all the time, even if it feels subtle, but when we look back, it becomes visible. I am still the same, and yet I am not who I was. And I will become someone I am not yet some day too.

Cathy