Come To Me My Melancholy Baby

Man could not live if he were entirely impervious to sadness. Many sorrows can be endured only by being embraced, and the pleasure taken in them naturally has a somewhat melancholy character. So, melancholy is morbid only when it occupies too much place in life; but it is equally morbid for it to be wholly excluded from life.
- Emile Durkheim

I have been running a low grade emotional fever for about a month now which has made me feel listless, sleepy and blue. Part of this is caused by my allergies but the other part I know is plain old melancholy. I usually slip into melancholy during the winter months due to the lack of sunlight but I think the hot weather keeping me inside has brought on a summer melancholy.  If I'm not careful I can easily slip into depression. 

The other day I woke up feeling as if my emotions were being shredded.  The anguish I felt bordered on painful.  As the day  progressed the anguish seemed to weigh on me more and more and I paced around the house like a caged lion.   Finally I could not stand any more roaming from room to room staring out the windows and went outside.  The heat and humidity were almost oppressive but I wheeled my bicycle out of the garage and into the alley.  As I begin  pedaling around town I felt my mood lighten. Whenever I get on a bicycle I am instantly transported back to the joy I felt when riding a bike as a child.  A bicycle was speed.  A bicycle was effortless movement through time and space.   A bicycle was flying while still attached to the ground.  A bicycle was freedom. 

On this day  I knew I needed more than the joy of bike riding so I headed in a direction that was mostly uphill. I needed to work my muscles, I needed to raise my heart rate, I needed to focus my brain, I needed to sweat.  By the time I reached the high point of my route my muscle were warm and loose,  my heart was pounding and a thin film of moisture covered my body.   My mind felt calm, relaxed and settled.  I pointed my bicycle down the street that I would return home on.  My chosen path  dropped between 10 and 15 degrees for about a quarter of a mile.  I pushed off the ground and petaled furiously for about a block and then coasted the rest of the way.  I was speeding effortlessly through time and space.  I was flying while still attached to the ground. I was free.