Dear Wigleaf,

This is the first thing I've written in a while, so I'm nervous. Fair warning Wigleaf, when I'm nervous, I have a tendency to make bad jokes. Sometimes I catch myself and tell myself not to. Then I still make the bad joke. After that, I'm ok.

I want to keep this postcard nice and simple. I want to tell you about riding a bike. I want to avoid mentioning vicious cycles. I want to not say I'm two tired. I'm sorry.

The other week, I rode a bike for the first time since I was a child. Not sure what had stopped me before. Maybe I thought life had changed so dramatically between childhood and adulthood that the forces of the world would no longer hold me upright when I took my feet off the ground.

I couldn't figure out how to adjust the saddle of the bike I hired, so the first few metres were wobbly. Then I was fine. Then I was soaring around the cycle paths of Edinburgh, no hands, eyes closed, pretending to fly, pretending my tenth birthday was yesterday.

Sometimes we overdramatise things in our minds until they become monsters. But the fundamentals of physics never change. And a writer will always have their words somewhere up there. And my nerves, my terrible jokes, my wobbles, will always be around.

The trick is to keep moving.

Hope this made sense.


Neil