At the end of last month, full of enthusiasm for local lockdown restrictions being lifted, I took a bus to the beautiful, Victorian seaside town of Llandudno.
It’s an hour and a half journey by bus. It’s the scenic route with distant mountain views, quaint towns, farmer’s fields (with lambs), three castles and views of the Irish sea. Even fully masked, it’s a pleasure to sit back and watch the world go by.
Normally, the route is straight forward but roadworks meant the bus detoured up a steep and windy road.
About halfway up the hill, I noticed that my right arm was aching. Really aching.
As I’d been staring out of the window, admiring the driver’s ability to manoeuvre narrow roads with a big bus, I hadn’t paid any attention to what was going on inside the bus. Specifically, what was going on inside of me.
I had grabbed the seat in front and I was holding on for dear life.
So much so that my arm hurt.
I was sitting next to the window with my husband beside me. I couldn’t fall off my seat (or off the bus) and yet subconsciously, I was afraid.
Once I’d realised what I was doing, I stopped holding on.
I released my pointless grip on ‘safety’.
The rest of the journey was a little bumpy but pain free and pleasant.
It got me thinking about how often in life we grab hold of something so tightly that it causes pain.
he more we hold, the more uncomfortable we become. And yet, we still clasp it because we’re afraid of what will happen if we let go.
It shows up in all areas of our lives…. relationships, jobs, outdated obligations and especially beliefs.
The fear of falling off the bus is greater than the discomfort.
Until at one moment it isn’t.
And then, after a few bumps in the road, we can enjoy the rest of the ride.