This past weekend, I had my very first ride on a motorcycle. While on it, I realized that I felt a little cool.

Not completely cool. But kind of cool.

Cool is a word I have never ever ever associated with myself. In high school, I wore glasses and played the flute and got straight As and was neither popular nor athletic. Also, I was in lots of spelling bees in middle school. I was most definitely not considered cool.

Somehow that made me think of someone I know, who probably doesn’t think they’re cool, but I think they’re very cool.

That made me wonder if there might even be people who think I am cool. (What a thought!)

All of this is making me think about labels. About how we apply them to ourselves. About how we apply them to other people. About how we allow those labels to shape us. About how we carry those labels for years, never bothering to take them out and question them.

I am even thinking about labels I might like, because the truth is that they often cause me to extend judgment toward myself and others. If I want to be a kind person, it is hard for me to accept and forgive myself for behavior that is unkind, because it doesn’t align with my perception of a kind person.

I don’t know if it’s possible, but I want to lovingly thank all of my labels for their service and release them with love. I think it would be freeing.

(Ok. I know I just disavowed labels, but I am definitely a thinker, since I seem unable to completely enjoy anything without reflecting on it, even when I don’t mean to. I love that about me.)