Biking through the elements

I spent the day biking to and from all the places I went. Nothing unusual about that; it's something I do fairly often throughout most of the year, sans parts of the really cold months of winter. Today, my companion was the wind. A warm, 20-30 mph wind.

As I listen to it continue to blow outside my apartment, I am reflecting upon how the experience of riding in it today was very much like life itself is all the time.

A few moments stand out as telling. Coming down a hill on the way back home from work this afternoon, the wind blowing right at me, nearly holding me in place no matter how hard I peddled. Doesn't that sound like certain days, weeks, months, maybe even years of your experience?

Another moment - going down a different hill with much less of slope, and yet with the wind at my back pushing me along so that I am gliding, almost flying without so much as a few spins on the peddles all the way down. This, too, may sound familiar.

Another - turning a corner, the wind at my side, pressing my balance point off balance.

A sense of wanting to give up shifting quickly into the drive to push on as conditions changed ever so slightly.

Biking through the elements is a full body experience, a way to completely be in whatever weather, and whatever place, is present in a way no one inside of a car or other vehicle can ever do.

I often chant while riding, as a meditation, and to work with the myriad of things that arise during an inner-city bike ride.

But today, there was no need for that even. Only being with the wind, and the bike, as whatever appeared appeared. That was it's own meditation, this very life unfolding.


P.S. Don't worry; it's not snowing here in Minnesota. The picture is from December, when I biked through a different set of elements. That old, green Schwinn is one tough cookie.