Biking Through Storms

It is amazing to think how we change.  Life is constantly evolving and moving and we are moving with it moment to moment.  How often, though, do we really notice all the stuff around us as it is happening?  How often do we see ourselves changing?  I have a tattoo, somewhat recent, that reads "this is water".  The story goes that two fish are swimming along and an older fish swims past, stops and nods and smiles and says, "Hey boys.  How's the water?"  The fish part ways and swim along.  The two younger fish stop after a bit and one says to the other, "What the hell is water?"  I stole, or borrowed depending on how liberally you look at it, from David Foster Wallace.
Everyday, all around us, life is happening.  We are growing and feeling and eating and breathing and loving and smiling and laughing and living, and we forget this.  As a society, I notice a lot of us only seeing the sad things and focusing on them.  I do it.  I think we all do.  We glance at the smile we get at the store, or the person holding a door for us, or the hug from a friend who loves us, or the supporting hands that help us everyday.  We only glance and move on.  Then we turn and stare at the love lost, how we don't have any money, the way we aren't what we thought we would be.  These are the photos in our mind.  The pictures of good times sit in albums tucked away in a closet. 
Perhaps we focus on the bad times, the storms in our lives, because they have the biggest impact on us.  They change us the most drastically in a short period of time.  I know that a few years ago (it is amazing that is how long ago it was) I was in a place I would never wish on anyone.  It was impossible to think of how life was outside of that darkness.  But I survived it and have grown and changed and matured. 
I am doing things I might not have ever done.  I am stronger in some ways, weaker in others, but I am changed. 
The good times don't alter us in the same way.  Those times change us slowly and are more like a gentle polish that makes us brighter.  A rock can be carved away by a raging rapid but made smooth by a flowing stream.  Perhaps the rapids come along when life grows tired of gently tugging us along, because like rocks we can be stubborn.  The storms, the raging rivers, are the unsubtle ways of getting us somewhere.  I am not a huge believer in fate and perhaps I am only trying to make sense of something that is hard to understand, but I believe that paths are presented to us and sometimes we dilly-dally a bit too long deciding which way to go instead of just living in the moment and taking the steps in one direction or another.  Eventually something has to happen. 
Einstein said that life is like riding a bicycle.  You have to keep moving to maintain a balance.  I think it would be good to ride life like that, the wind in your face, the ground below you a blur of grass and stone, and a focus on what is around us right now so we can see the rocks in the road and keep moving with joyous intensity.

“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”

—	Haruki Murakami