Thoughts on Two Wheels: September 21, 2013

The remnants of rain clouds still populate the sky while rays of sunshine cascade through the trees and dry the asphalt. It’s late afternoon on this last day of summer and time is of the essence: I’ve only an hour or so to squeeze a ride in before twilight renders the exercise moot.

The route I begin to develop in my mind’s eye as I exit the driveway will be relatively short (15-17 miles or so), but will include a couple of big hill climbs I know will insure a good cardiovascular workout. There’s a cool breeze pushing against me as I begin to spin the peddles and my thoughts whirl with corresponding rapidity.

Earlier, when rain showers were casting a pall over the possibilities of the day, I sought refuge in the welcoming confines of Akron’s main library where the atmosphere exudes a soothing balm I ingest with glee. Lately, I’ve been procuring back copies of Shambhala Sun magazine (tag line: “Buddhism Culture Meditation Life”) to take home and pore over during my late night reading reveries. While I often find the various articles and essays thought-provoking and worthy of contemplation, I’m also cognizant of a certain discomfort and dissonance best encapsulated in the phrase “enlightenment for sale.”

Printed on slick, glossy paper, each issue is filled with advertisements targeted to readers of considerable financial means. Various ads for retreats and/or excursions to exotic locals to study with an exalted Buddhist master of some renown are commonplace; accoutrements for meditation occupy another advertising niche; an investment firm “based on Nobel-prize winning research and the Buddhist practices of awareness, simplicity, equanimity and non-harming” commands the back cover of the March, 2013 issue. The editor-in-chief’s column in the same issue is titled “A Magazine for Everyone.” My cynical self wants to say, “yes, everyone occupying the crucial demographic of 30-65 years of age with household incomes exceeding $75K per annum are most welcome to read our publication.”

I’ve pedaled my way through 13-miles of terrain and have reached the start of the final hill climb of the day. Dropping into my lowest gear, I begin the ascent at a steady, but slow pace. I don’t see myself as enlightened or a master of anything; I have a smidgen of understanding of some things, I strive to afford understanding and compassion to all whom I encounter—I don’t always live up to my ideals.

A bit of divine presence and unconditional love greets my arrival back home: Stella smiles and wags her tail with vigor as she seeks a comforting pat on the head.

Life is good.