There is a grand sense of connection that I have with my bike. It helps me navigate through my errand-riddled day. Because of it, I can travel anywhere in the city without ever worrying about filling up a gas tank, waiting for a bus, or finding a parking spot. But sometimes, my bicycle and I become bored with each other. Like lifelong lovers, we need to be reminded how lucky we are to have one another.

When this occurs, I open my closet, wipe off the excess dust from my toolbox, and I make some changes to my bike.

Sometimes, I just need to get my hands dirty. I need to feel the chain between my fingers. I need to feel the weight of a wrench in my hand. This helps break the monotony that comes with riding the same bike every single day. By working on my bike, I am opening myself up to it. I am digging up the emotion I felt when my bike and I first met.

It is a lovely feeling when you are reminded why you love something.

I love writing, but there are moments when I need to be reminded of this love. When this happens, I dig up an old story, and I tear it apart. I make anywhere from minor tweaks to sweeping changes, all in the name of improvement. Reading old words helps restore the feelings I had when I first wrote them, the excitement I felt when I was creating. I grow optimistic with my art, and I can move forward into new worlds with new characters.

When my bike has been worked on, improved, it is always the best time to ride, not only because it physically rides better, but because I feel more attachment to it, a revisited honeymoon. I do my best writing when I have torn apart a piece. I feel the excitement that comes with creating alongside the sense of hard work.

Let me tell you, it is one of the greatest feelings in the world. The rush that comes with being a writer who loves writing is unrivaled. Don’t get me wrong, it is a lot of work, and I often wonder if it is worth it. It can be likened to being a cyclist who loves riding. When the sun is just right, the chain has been greased, and the hill is behind you, there is nothing left but the feeling of doing good work.