Sometimes — during a Florida summer, a lot of times
— it starts to rain at an inconvenient moment.
Yesterday while I biked my errands, it began to pour.
My extensive to-do list? Interrupted.
So I pulled over and took shelter under the awning of an office building on east University.
I leaned my bike against the wall and sat on the concrete, earbuds in, and watched the rain come down, the steam rise from the road, and the cars swoosh by.
Fifteen minutes later, it continued.
“Fuck it.”
I got back on and biked on
in the downpour toward my next destination.
It’s these moments when shit sucks
that are sometimes the sweetest.
I am alive.
I don’t know why but it is a sweet reminder that arises at the least convenient moments: Praise the skies, I am alive.
We met only that once.
We shared a laugh and a short chat.
But something clicked, and we both knew,
“Wow. You are human, too.”
It’s a small place, thus inevitable, it could be.
But of 7.1 billion on this planet currently;
of 14 billion years since the cosmos came to be,
what chanced this encounter between you and me?
Most of us go preoccupied
between stresses, grievances, and concerns.
But then we meet again… out of the blue…
and I can’t help but feel so happy to see you.
Who knew that when you go out for a run at 5:30 in the Miami morning, you can see bats? I didn’t think there were bats in Miami, but the truth is I just never came out to meet them.
Sometimes you wake up with a smog in your head. It can keep you in darkness all day. Today I told it, “No. You’ve got to go.”
You run, you heat up, and that pollution evaporates.
I run adjacent to morning traffic and my temptation is to think, “fuck these cars,” as I breathe in their fumes, but that’s not fair cause this morning I’m letting out emissions, too.
The music shuffles.
“I’ve been tryin’ to do it right/I’ve been livin’ a lonely life…”
I run harder.
I run til I’m not lonely. I remind myself that every day, I have the power to choose myself. I choose myself, and I am grateful to be chosen.
I turn the corner and I almost run into these kids walking to their school bus.
I think about last night, seeing my old high school friend, and how he now has a six-year-old, and how fucking proud I feel to hear him say, “No, you can’t watch that show, it’s bad for your brain.”
And earlier, to me: “Sorry man, I can’t have another, I’ve got to get back to the house.”
We can all right ourselves.
I see a mango ahead, fallen on the sidewalk, and I pick it up. It’s cracked open, but what a sweet smell.
Then the jasmine bushes. Breeeathe.
I’m almost back home.
There are no bats anymore, but there is an airplane flying low, ahead of me.
“Where are you going? Take me.”
I can’t keep up.
“I’ll meet you there.”
This morning I’m on my way.
Back to Gainesville and forward
to other proverbial places.