When I was a child and words failed me, I would refer to a nebulous idea or object as “It”, which would always prompt my Mother to say, “What is an it?”
She went on to tell me that an “It” is an inanimate object or something without a shape or form – she encouraged me to abandon using “It” and to be more specific.
As I’ve gotten older I’ve come to the conclusion that my Momma was onto something.
“It” is truly without shape or form and it has been both the bane of my existence and a source of inspiration.
“It” has been the entity that has taken my joy and left me as a ravaged shell of a man on more than one occasion.
In other instances “It” has goaded me into picking myself up and taking on some of my greatest challenges – and succeeding despite being convinced that I faced insurmountable odds.
I am unsure if I should regard “It” as friend or foe, because it seems that “It” takes an impartial view to our relationship, but is it is a stretch to refer to what I have with “It” as a relationship?
At present “It” has seen fit to envelope me in this confining space of indecision and doubt.
However, it is my contention that I am at the crossroads of doing something consequential and impactful in this segment of my life, but “It” won’t allow the clarity that I need to pass through its formidable defenses.
I woke up early this morning, because “It” started to make inroads into my sacred realm of sleep.
I rubbed my face and wallowed in the despair of “It” before coming to the realization that I should try to ride away from “It”, as this would enable me to find the clarity that I so desperately needed.
So, I got my bag, filled up my water bottle and got on my bike I started to ride.
I was oblivious to the chill in the air as I navigated throughout the city, in effort to leave “It” in my tailwind.
It wasn’t until I got to mile 15 of my journey that felt compelled to get off my bike.
I removed my helmet and had a seat on one the benches facing Baltimore Harbor and closed my eyes with the hope that “It” wouldn’t interrupt my moment of solace.
Fortunately, “It” left me alone with my thoughts and I composed the outline to this soliloquy.
It was when I was sitting here that “It” and I came to an understanding.
I can only savor the ride, this life journey, my experiences – and how I weather them is what will define me.
Concerning myself with the elements that are out of the realm of my control are truly a waste of my scant mental resources.
It was an eureka moment as I begrudingly realized that “It” is a teacher.
Often we miss these lessons because we don’t like what is being imparted to us, but we have to accept and respect “It” because “It” isn’t going anywhere.