Surrender when I say this
Never hold on too tight to the breaks. Yes you are afraid, you need to feel the round handles in the grip of your palm with a sense of security that everything is under your control.
My friend, do we ever have control?
We used to move slow on steady four-wheelers with pink pompoms and baskets embellished with butterflies and seahorses. We unconsciously cruised at comfortable speeds and the only constant was, and still is, change. So much so that when fates collide we forget the breaks we made a point to keep within reach so what catastrophe that follows is complete calamity and you say: this should not have happened, was not supposed to happen, I let this happen.
You let it happen?
Cause if you did why so afflicted why castigate your encounters why reproach your senses please stop feeling hapless.
The epiphany of my two-wheel ride is: our journey is ineluctable, non-circumvent. No helmets, district maps, grotty road signs. Capitulate and lay your hands down so you can feel the air stream through your fingers and your deep core carry you through the breeze so I can hear you say “I let this happen” with no indignation, but rather jubilation at the assurance that you had and have no control.
Never hold on too tight to the breaks.