There are many ways to spend our days, and biking is one of them. Over a hundred miles today entirely around San Diego was one way to internal and external immersion.
Delved into the assorted communites, stretching beyond tight-nit groups into something much larger. The shift in space is like teleporting into another dimension. You place yourself into fresh perspectives with every entrance and exit, passing through time and carrying onto the next voyage, a remarkable change.
How It Began
The day spiraled in a looming cloud. Fog wherever the eye could see, breath roaring into the wind. Every push of the peddle emerged a new reality ahead, existing only temporarily as it vanished behind. Awareness of the present moment honed down to its core, everything was simple.
Breaking It's Hold
Reaching to the outer side, managed to pervade it's grasp into the next path: the silver strand. Stretching for miles along the coast of ocean breeze, a man-made link between islands presents itself.
It was here that I came to the first road block, but it was not the road. A flat tire reared its head. Swiveling the bike this way and that, clunking up and down, I became a buoy without an anchor.
Loss of Identity
What's a biker without a bike? Whizzing by were the sounds of biker groups charting course for the distant path. With a decommissioned object at my feet, I had been chained to my bike not wanting to ditch it.
Had to walk it back to the nearest shop. Only, it was three miles away. It was a walk of defeat, considering I repaired the tubes just the week prior. With no parts, I was unprepared, stripped to the bottom. And every step was inverse to the destined path.
What you have can change at a moments notice. From this moment or the next, they take us through what we must face.
Reached the shop and put the bike under repair. With the 30 minute wait, walked to the nearest park. Like a sanctuary for the mind, parks draw me in. Removing my shoes and socks, felt the moist ground beneath me, grass itching up between my toes.
Looking up, saw two individuals dangling from the trees with satin red cloth. Tugging and twisting it around their feet, they performed an elegant display of balance and control as if floating by an inner power.
Whether semblance of control or not, having power over mind and body allows wondrous feats. Without a tree to hang, they'd be no less what they're doing.
These skills, or biking, are infused with our being. They await our intent and use, for when the time comes. It becomes a test of will to embody our actions in the physical world, altered from our thoughts.
Away from the shop, the bike ceased to be a problem. The more rooted in the time of now, the more one connects to themselves and an absence of itself. Teetering between moments, our mind wanders to meet its crucial pivot point: the many paths we take, all leading in the same direction.
A New Path
No longer dwelling on the past and reengaging the present, the bike was returned to its original state, but I came back with a new intention: to go up instead of down.
Riding across Coronado beating the traffic, met up with the ferry. She is the bridge between lands, coming and going, having no end. Embarking downtown San Diego threw us into the heart of a crowd. Swishing between it's people, a path was laid out. So I followed it.
And Here We Are
Through endless streets of people, they came in all shapes, sizes, and color; from noble to peasant; clean to filth; I had ended at the public library.
Around it's security patrol and glaring windows were homeless men and women, and some children working for their next meal. At the corner of the lot were another kind of people. Those that enticed the shadows of our highest characters, shattered to their core, into a sexual pleasure exchange. A rocking car with tinted windows, and men guarding their earnings.
Of a place harboring knowledge, the boundary between an unknowing and knowing within us outshines all else. Our every choice and direction end in the path we take, and some best not taken.
Into Another World
Stepping off the bike and onto the shores of this location brought everything to the same level. No longer whooshing by and observing, I became another living vessel within the scene.
Walking through and up it's stairs, sit many at tables with beings staring into screens. Whole lines of computers being used for games and mindless distractions, meanwhile their bodies decay, mind wanders, and spirit withers into dust. One of the same as those outside, as inside.
Make no mistake, there were the few and bold who withstood their ground, accepting no less than their potential and made use of the resources before them now and for their futures. But as it was, even in the midst of all ever-knowing potential, our minds may cloud and blind us before it. Those that reach through the clouds are animating the divine, giving presence to forces beyond ourselves and breathing life into what matters.
The Big Bang
Having set up notebook and pen at the go, I wrote and wrote about all the trivialities the mind goes, seeing what it's made of. With what seemed like a gripping tension between fingers and ink, and blood vessels squeezing throughout my body, I heard something.
A drum of sorts, popping in and out of my mind. I stopped writing; picking up the winds of change. Packing everything up with ever so much more to write, I engaged my curiosity and saught after the banging behind the bookshelves.
What revealed itself was the wall of computers and sloths at their front. And there it was again: the bang. This time, it wasn't just a bang, but banging. I've drawn closer, yet this wouldn't do. I turned the nearest corner and onwards the across vicinity and I found it. A distant roar calling out itself, giving birth to an idea it beholds: a performance of dance.
The Arts Become A Doorway
Seemingly random moments take our breath away. For it gives us a new breathe to impart, living fully and embracing our core fears and triumphant conquests.
Those that take hold of their minds, not to control but to guide, step into this deep knowningness of our universal experience. The big picture is linked to us in small expressions of our creativity and indulgence into substance beyond ourselves. It's here that we connect and bring real change to the flux of our lives.
Viewing the spectacle, I witnessed a movement of wonder and natural flow. Vanquished into the present, the viewers and I remained giddy yet silent, subserving to what's taking place. There's nothing else that need be done, or said, for it simply is itself, being what it may.
The World Runs It's Course
The sloths remain in their place, and a timeless performance plays just underneath. Tuning it out as background was ignorance to the divine rythmn. So deep in their ways, nothing bulges. This was a reminder of a lifetime: to not sit idle tuned out to the world, but to instead embrace it with a force to live. Everyone has eyes and ears and mouths, but not everyone sees, listens, and tastes the depth of their reach. Let us strive to be the one who does.