The Fixer

When i was younger, it was much easier to fix what was going on INSIDE.  This was usually because whatever was troubling my much littler self was not 'the end of the world' as my mother would always say.  I'd often got a few spellings wrong, grazed my knee or lost a crucially iportant Polly Pocket.  At that precise moment it really did feel like the end of the world:  like nothing in the world would ever feel worse than that precise moment in time.  Then i would have a cup of Magic (TEA - BUT THE EXTRA SPECIAL KIND THAT ONLY MUMS CAN MAKE IN THAT ESPECIALLY PERFECT WAY THAT JUST FIXES EVERYTHING).  I often think my mother could mend the world, end wars and cure all with that tea. It really is and was that good.

When you get older life isnt FIXED quite as easy.  There are real life problems, things to always think about and jobs that always need doing.  Sometimes there isn't anything wrong.  Not anything in particular that is pin-pointable at least.  No, sometimes i just have that feeling.  The feeling that if i don't take some kind of drastic action that i might burst.  It's a feeling that starts in the bottom of my little tummy.  The feeling that something is there, bothering me; pestering, niggling.  I often give myself a headache, over-thinking and determined to pin it down to one specific thing that i can identify, fix and make the feeling go away.  

I never find it.  I am not convinced that there ever is just one thing.  I have come to the conclusion that it is my way of telling myself that, things in general are getting too much and that i just need to take a step back.  I like to think it is for the good of my health.  I first remember getting this feeling as a teenager. I fixed it with loud music.  So loud infact that it was impossible to think of anything but the music whizzing in, out and around my little ears causing quite the draft and delightfully tickling my ears as it went about it's job of emptying my head.  

Now, i ride my BIKE.  When i can't decide what's wrong, where it has come from or where it's going; i wrap up warm - mittens, hat - the lot, and i ride.  






 I don't think about anything other than that moment.  I take in every last detail of it all, in big deep breathes.  As the fresh air seeps into my little lungs and my legs start to ache, whatever was there just melts away.  Sometimes i listen to music too, but mostly i just listen to the moment - to the birds, the gentle hum of the city and to the outside, not the inside. 

And suddenly it's all okay.