I did it. I solved the riddle and found the missing pieces of the world’s most arduous puzzle. I still get tired and I still get sore, and time still passes by me at an alarming rate. But I really think I’ve finally figured out how to maintain my balance. Let me explain…

One of the most amazing things I’ve ever witnessed was a helicopter pilot operating his machine as we began to take flight. From the passenger seat I watched, awestruck as his hands navigated the endless wall of switches and dials that sit before him. There were seemingly hundreds of variables for him to consider and each appeared as important as the next if he was to keep the meters out of the red zones and prevent our chopper from exploding.

Keeping the balance of everything on his dash appeared to be a daunting task, but I imagined that after practicing for so many years he likely had little use for the meters anymore. I bet he operated with an acquired feel for his machine and that is what allowed him to carry us safely and smoothly through the sky that day.

Some time later I imagined the various passions and affairs of my life to be re-organized into a clever dashboard – much like the controls of the chopper – where I could monitor everything and try to keep it balanced. Perhaps it would create an ease when it came to flicking the switches between working and riding or shooting and shredding – finding the time to chill and just keep everything level without hitting the red zones and burning out.

As much as I tried to look at things that simply, something always felt abrasive. Inevitably, something always got left behind or forgotten about. So I decided one day to stop worrying about it and accept the whirlwinds of trying to keep up with myself.

Suddenly this spring, things feel different. I’m riding everyday and it feels like nothing is ever forgotten. I can finally switch from bike to bike with an instant sensation of confidence and I’m squeezing everything in as if I’m stretching time and making it mine. I don’t know what I’m actually doing differently, but it feels like I’m striking the perfect chords.

Perhaps I’ve just been flipping these switches for long enough now that the meters are as obsolete for me as they were for that chopper pilot. Maybe I’ve acquired that special feel that I always needed to circumnavigate the daily gnar and fly myself more safely and smoothly through time than I’d ever imagined being possible.