Br(e)aking hard

****DISCLOSURE: I acknowledge that there is a lot happening in our world. Given the fact that this blog has to do with "time" and the importance of it, I want to let you know that I've withheld this post till later in the month because I wanted to mute my voice to let other voices be heard.

I have contemplated scratching this post, and writing a more relevant one to what is currently happening, but acknowledgement must come before action. For me, acknowledgement has taken the form of listening, learning, reading books, watching documentaries and films,  and staying informed on both the latest news, as well as history that has founded what our world is today.

The last thing I want is for this blogpost to seem ignorant or insensitive to the hurt that our world and people are experiencing.  I hope you can understand.

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No one delights in the feeling of slamming on the brakes to avoid a collision. No matter how janky (or not) your car is, the fear that arises within you is inescapable. You realize you may not have enough time. The times I've experienced this have consistently been neck-jerking and anxiety-filling. The car would start to beat an aggressive drum against my right foot to try to stop in time without sliding, and I question whether braking this hard is the right decision. Why wasnt I more proactive? I’m going to crash. There’s no time to think, just go; hold your breath, maybe that’ll help. But then you make it, and you take a deep sigh of relief. Br(e)aking hard is no fun, but sometimes, you find yourself in a situation like this and denying it happened serves no purpose.  Instead, you must think fast and trust your car to do its job, too.

I've found that the silver lining in this time we're currently living in is that, now—we have enough time to take a hard br(e)ak. It makes sense that br(e)aking away is fear-forming and/or anxiety-arising because it requires stepping away from your regular norm (what is normal anymore, tbh??) of your pre-pandemic life.

​But maybe it's a good thing; maybe this pandemic is amplifying things that need to be revealed.

​Towards the end of February, I made the decision to leave a job and place that played a huge role in my life — Cyclebar. I didn’t want to leave the place because I absolutely loved my job there, and this studio had a huge impact on who I am ever since I moved to Fort Worth. Coming to TCU as a freshman was already scary enough. I've never been to the state and I didn’t feel like I belonged at the school. Everyone seemed like they were in a sorority or fraternity, balancing heavy business and pre-med major workloads, while also living out the weekend parties, formals, and mixers. I kept a smile on my face and searched for good people, organizations, and other events to fill my time with. But I remember a friend taking me to Cyclebar and changing my life forever. There was something about the encouraging atmosphere, kind people, and close community that made every part of me want to work here.

So I did. From working the desk and cleaning the studio, running the social media and decorating the red wall, and eventually becoming an instructor and teaching classes, Cyclebar was home.

Until it wasn't.

I didn't just suddenly peace out, although it may have seemed like that for some. It was a long and heavy journey of thinking, praying, and journaling. When you put so much heart, soul, time, and effort into a place (or person for that matter), you hope that you'll also get that in return. Unfortunately, I felt like I was pushing on the gas and driving my way into a full-on collision. I was burning myself out and hoping things would change.

In the midst of this, one thing my mom reminded me of was that,
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the energy & work you put in may be changing you, but until others make the individual decision to also acknowledge and change, you can't do it for them.

​I so badly wanted to let my words speak action to others, but what some people needed at the time, was exactly that: time — time to take a step back and acknowledge things that they usually don’t make time for, don’t have time for, or unwilling to make time for.

So, long story short —I left.

I left the studio that was my happy place and the job that I heavily advertised wherever I would go. Br(e)aking away is hard. It's like slamming on the brakes— you question whether it is was the right decision, or causing more damage. You fear what’s ahead and you bank on faith in the moment. And when you come out alive, you discover the strength that resides in you.  

​However, it's not that the fear or intense emotions instantly subside; like a close collision, it takes time for your beating heart to slow, and adjust back to homeostasis. You avoided something that could have been a real bad collision. It takes time to get back to the normal, so give yourself that time. (Give others that time, too).
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One of the most freeing moments is when you let go of the things you can't control. 

​I could go on about the breaks that have hit hard in my life this month, but you get the point — a break is no simple task that gets easier with practice (unless you're out of touch with your emotions, and not letting them do their job). Grief is a good word to put to what you're feeling, and the only way to get over it is to get through it. You’re trying to cope without something that was so heavily engrained in your life; something or someone that brought you so much joy and purpose.
***Notice how I didn't say life though; no one can take away your life other than your decision to go head first into a collision...and that means you aren’t even considering  the brake system.

Maybe you need to take a hard “brake” in life. It seems like the world has already done that itself. Maybe it's a call that you should, too.
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How to take a "brake"

***tips & lessons life taught me this past month; NOT a formula that works for everyone so please don't sue me :)
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1. People don’t ease into their brakes when they are avoiding a nasty collision. You slam on them, and hope its a clean cut that doesn’t cause any severe damages. Make it clean because you never know if its a temporary or permanent break. Don’t add regret to your emotional burden that will form from the loss of something/someone you really cared about.

2. Give it time (aka — be patient!!!) People say YOLO, and that time is precious; if you believe in this truth. then trust in the precious power of time to aid the process of healing. After all, the only way to give something/someone time is to literally, let time pass.

3. Allow yourself to feel emotions. Everyone does it differently, and for some, it takes a lot of willpower to be vulnerable in this way. Like I said before, the only way to get over it is to get through it, so give yourself space to acknowledge your emotions, feel them, and then (and only then), overcome and learn from them.
***I've found myself actually designating time to let my emotions open their floodgates because they were already ebbing and flowing during random parts of my day. Prioritize your emotions, and maybe even designate spending time with them.

4. Don’t stop living life. Taking a break doesn’t mean life completely stops.
How do I know what to write each month? I don't. I just live; lessons are learned and ideas are noted. The blogs that form are founded on experience, conversations, and truth. If you shut people and events out of your life, you'll miss the opportunity to find healing, gain insight, and discover joy amid suffering in the cherished moments that may come your way.

5. Have your people. I am SO grateful to have caring friends and family who have been my support and rock this past month. Their thoughtfulness, prayers, words, wisdom, and love only magnify the goodness of a God who cares for us and works through us via others. It’s crazy to think that while I can barely hold myself up, there is a God who is great enough to assist and walk with every single one of his children during both joyous and unfathomable times.

6. Don’t use this time as an excuse or “free to do whatever makes you happy” card. Society and people are going to encourage the indulgence of “treating yourself” and “doing what makes you happy,” but a bandaid can only cover for so long. Don't sit in your depression or despair, but treat your emotions as people. Hear them out,  understand and care for them, and then take action.
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Storytime

And so here is a story that actually relates to the point in that breaks don't have to last forever, but may be a wise step in the journey! You may have a really traumatic near-death car accident, but eventually — you learn to get back in that car and drive again. (Maybe not, too, and that's okay).

​So... I found Jesus behind the bike. Let me explain; you'll need a little context:
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My family and I was obsessed with this cute little store in Hawaii called “David and Goliath.” The store was filled with a bunch of really funny sayings and puns on clothing, keychains, and other junk I didn't really need. My baby brother had a light blue shirt that said “Chicks Magnet,” with a little cartoon chick on a bike plastered to the front. I had a “You rock” and “You rule” tee that had a cartoon ruler and rock talking to each other. All the sayings were easy to laugh at but one; my mom and I would always tilt our heads, thinking that would help, but just didn't get it. We were definitely a minority because the saying was a bestseller that sold on shirts, wallets, purses, and more. It said “I found Jesus ...he was behind the couch.”

Eventually, we ended up asking a worker at the store and he explained how people talk about spiritual awakenings. Some say they discover Jesus in a dream, or on both knees near a church pew. However, here is a cartoon picture of Jesus peeking behind a couch. There he is!

While I wish heartbreak on no one, experiencing it has made me cling to the Lord more than ever, and remind me who the owner of my heart should and always be. However, no matter how many quiet times, devotionals, and Christian books I've read this past month, I've sought wisdom, but not intimacy with the Lord. I felt so weak.​

That is, until I bopped my way back on a bike at Cyclebar. No, not as an instructor, but as a rider. I wasn't expecting to work for a top class rank, nor was I expecting one of those classes where you have to go back in the studio to thank the instructor (which I later did). I just wanted to make sure I could ride the darn bike after taking a break from it for a couple months. Before, I was teaching around four classes a week; I didn't have time to ride for myself, nor put in the effort to push to my greatest potential. My sole focus was my riders, and that changed the way I would walk into the studio. Things were different since the break.

Walking into that studio after a two month break was weird. Looking at the red wall I used to write on with white chalk markers was no longer decorated with my handwriting. All the social distancing guidelines made the studio look bare and naked. As I sought normalcy, I didn't get much.

I got on a bike, and here was another strange experience: usually I'd be on the podium looking out at my riders, but here I was on the other side. My feet pedaled, searching for the rhythm that used to play such a strong beat in my life. My breath tried to catch up to the endurance and gear that this workout entailed, but it's been some time. Even though I felt so weak, this was my starting point to encounter the heaviness beneath my feet and on my heart.

As I rode in Hannahs class, I experienced the struggle of both pushing yourself and enduring the journey. Sometimes I'd add more gear. Other times, I'd simply maintain where I'm at.  There were points where I had to acknowledge where I'm at and release gear.  The one common factor in all those choices I made — I was struggling.

In the midst of that struggle, though, class was revitalizing and encouraging. You only get to experience the complete victory when you fully understand the pain and journey it took to get there, and that was what Hannahs class was for me. It was a reminder that the hurt and tears I've endured have a light at the end of the tunnel. 

And this is how I found Jesus hiding behind the bike. It’s one of those really cool biblical paradoxes of experiencing joy in suffering and strength in weakness. The only way I could be revealed of the strength I was capable of was by enduring the journey, and even adding more resistance along the way. You can't overcome anything that isn't hard because there’s no victory without hardship and struggle. In a similar way, sin and redemption have this pattern:

Unless you acknowledge the weight of your sin, you're unable fully comprehend the merciful and bountiful grace that the Lord provides for us. We must be willing to confess, repent, and open our eyes to the dark to receive the light. We must acknowledge the sin to be opened to the grace. We must endure the suffering to be revealed the complete joy in Christ Jesus.

The phrase “Br(e)aking hard” speaks for itself; no one likes breaks nor hard things. I want to encourage you that there is indeed, a light at the end of the tunnel. (***Remember, you don’t go over tunnels; you go through them.)

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acknowledgement precedes action.

Until we acknowledge, we cannot act. (Well, I guess we can, but it may not be the best action). This month's blog post is founded on many themes, one being time. Time is precious, time is healing, and time is something that for some, we have more of right now. What you put your time in says a lot about what you prioritize and value. With the time that you have now, what are you going to do with it? Journal about it, pray about it, and comment below to share your ideas! It can be as delicious as baking goods for your neighborhood, simple as smiling, private (and outdated, sadly) as writing a letter, or active as educating bored kids via Zoom.