my attempt at spirituality

Bizarre ride in this morning.

I am only on the Federation Trail for maybe 5km on the way out of town to get to the Ring Road Path. The Trail itself is not fun particularly before the sun emerges. It cuts the heart of Melbourne's industrial inner west. No street lighting and questionable surface. In the short time I was on it this morning I managed to drop the chain, get a puncture and nearly get taken out by a semi trailer for whom stopping at red lights is apparently optional.

After fixing the flat tyre I had had enough and turned around to head home instead of completing my planned long training ride. Fortunately I realised the folly of this before reaching home and did tap out a very slow but still acceptable 60km before work. Once I reached the Ring Road and did my big right hand turn I realised that I was going to be pushing into a really strong Northeasterly for the next 30km and was again ready to give up. In a desperate attempt to cheer the hell up I went searching inside my mind for some more Paul Simon but couldn't find any. Instead a bizarre combination of Lou Reed, The Lion King (left over from Saturday night) and The Dixie Chicks who have a couple of songs that are perfect for cycling. Stopped to take some photos of my nearly full moon behind some clouds and the emergence of the sun from the remnants of last night's storm.

No singing once I started cycling again. Pondered inventory consumption and some stock-turn calculations. Marvelled at the beauty of mathematics and then began to think about what my good mate Jimbob talked of yesterday as the great paradox. Still not reconciling a desperate need to take action, seek justice and general social agitation with a peace and tranquility that supposedly comes with an acceptance of where things are at. Maybe Buddhist principles should not be interpreted through a prism of black and white Western dogma or even cheap 80s pop culture.

Another big right hand turn to come down the storm swollen Moonee Ponds Creek path. Now I have the wind at my back but still have no energy or enthusiasm for a faster ride into work. Start mentally drawing up a list of potential coffee stops between where I am and work but put a line through that when thinking about the lack of good cherry-danish. Then start craving runny egg and bacon roll. Final bit of the commute is my least favourite with too many other cyclists and self focussed unpredictable pedestrians. Finally reconcile my Jimbob paradox with a grudging realisation that through necessity every single persons process of transformation is individual and I cannot own it anymore than anyone else even if I am far more worthy. Not only do I decide that bicycles are definately the answer but can see that how you choose to ride your bicycle is far more important than which bicycle you are on.