Kick, push, kick, push, coast. Kick, push, kick, push, coast.
I reach the crest of a hill on my longboard and pause. The wind is a gentle hand at my back, an encouraging friend. The sun gleams in the sky, imbuing my spring-green surroundings with a delicate sparkle. I breathe deeply through my nose and smile.
I’m not thinking about anything, but if I were to translate my mental state into words, it would be something like, “Here I am. I’m really here. All of this is mine. Thank you.”