In Motion

In motion the world seems to make sense. People moving. Animals moving. The sky and wind and rain and stars, all moving. The planet itself. And me and my bike.

As I ride today, both the Bandit for an early morning run to the downtown farmer's market, and later on the Shadow, cruising to a nearby park to think about and write this, I have to wonder - I really don't understand why our world has been allowed to become this way. Why as a species we can't or won't develop a more harmonious way to deal with one another, the planet, our environment, and other species.

Everything is such a struggle today, but being in motion this way is effortless. The bike and I take deep long breaths and growl at the wind as we carve our path into the various highways around this city I currently call home.

It's all such a crazy mess, but being in motion calms me, and nourishes this meaning-starved existence in no small measure.

Challenging People

Life is hard.

It's easier with a bike under me... The ride makes me center myself in the present moment despite the whirlwind of emotional tornados hurling and whirling around the folks in my life.

Despite my best efforts, I cannot fix or help other people, they have to do it themselves. Deer in headlights, some people cannot or won't help themselves, they'd rather freeze and crawl into a small hole alone and die.

The ride reminds me to just concentrate on me. To just be in this moment.

I find a park at sunset and call my dad. He's happy to hear my voice and I his. It's been a very long week and I have fielded a LOT of other people's hostile and frenetic emotional output.

The helpless need to help themselves for a while.

I'm tired.

Riding Days

Life on a bike - it's days like these, sunset rides to pretty places, that make me glad I'm traveling this way. There is something "effortless" about riding on days like these.

Parking the bike at a nearby park in the setting sun, I step off and give her fuel tank a strong pat of appreciation.

"Thanks for the ride", I say quietly to the Bandit.

City Sunset

Nice biking days yesterday and today. The heat of summer is back, the streets are sticky again and the riding is crisp and enjoyable. Watching the sunset directly ahead as I ride the city streets on a grocery run, I have already decided to ride as much as possible into winter this year.

Except for a layer of snow or ice on the roads, I don't see a reason to stop riding, especially for quick milk runs like these.

World View

I left at sunrise this morning, headed nowhere in particular though I did suit up for an adventure ride, backpack, thermos, laptop, full kit.

As I rode into the sun, I worked my way east through many stop signs and side streets, eventually wrapping south as the sprawling suburban scenery clashed with the northeastern boundary of the six lane. In that surprising corner, I found an industrial section with some very nice s-curves, six in a row, and I took them at speed and smiled the whole way through. Back in the suburban landscape and back on my route to anywhere, I thought about heading further towards the river valley, only a few miles east now, but decided instead to head towards a midtown lake I know well. I parked for a bit to take in the sunrise.

Joggers and strollers, a quiet morning, and still as the lake around here.

Curious about the contrast, I cut south towards the city again, working my way through an ever-converging urban network of roads into downtown St Paul. The Sunday morning traffic had started to come up by then, and I was competing with busses, church traffic, downtown taxis, and more. From there the Summit area, then University, following the bisecting trolley line, and then onward we explored, my Bandit and I, for another hour or two.

From this bike, it seems I can blend into the landscape of anywhere and visit for a while without their sometimes-harsh realities having the time to 'stick' to me. Poor areas, rich areas, in-between areas. My ride took me through all of them, and left me feeling privileged to have such a 'world view' from this saddle.

Joy

Since getting back from Colorado, most of my days have been filled with a lot of local riding in and around the city, running errands and where I can, doing longer rides between coffeeshop venues to get my work done. As a contract software developer, I work remotely, which is great. It means I can do my job anywhere. But on very busy days, it also means I am literally always carrying my job on my back, wherever I go, any time of day.

On my many shorter rides this past week, what time I had to reflect was spent on the meaning of life and joy. Really, if you've read any of my earlier blogs, you know that the motorcycle is a perfect vehicle for this type of reflection. This week's riding has not been any different. Many of my thoughts have drifted to this one underlying question: is joy the meaning of life? I keep getting that same message from many different sources, but really, is it that simple..?

I have talked a lot to both my parents this past week, way more than usual. My mom and dad are both in their 80's, getting up there but still mentally active and alive. But they are also tired, both of them. They have lived long and very adventurous lives themselves, together and apart, and I love to hear them both recall all their many stories, of life abroad, of travels to strange places that I will likely never see and seeing them in a way I may never see them.

I heard one of my favorites last week, of how they ran out of money in Germany, got evicted from the bedroom space they were renting, and moved into a campground and tent and ate sausage scraps until my dad got a good paying job. They both tell the story differently, but in both their voices I hear wanderlust; that same tone that says: "I was there, I lived then, I made it happen... I was alive then!"

And there is joy there also. A not-so-hidden smile in somebody's voice for the memory, and all the emotions that memory evokes.

Nowadays, their advice to me is exactly the same: seek joy, let things go, be alive and live your life well, do good, have fun, vibrate positively. All advice I readily accept as true. After all, they've been there, they've seen the world in a way and for a stretch that I haven't yet.

Joy it is.