A Meditation On A Ride

Two hours at a time...

That seems to be the pace of my latest recovery.  I've been taking two-hour rides, mainly in and around my neighborhood.  I probably could ride longer, but I am following the orthopedic doctor's advice and erring on the side of caution.

Even so, the rides are invigorating--and interesting:

It would have been one thing to find something like this house in one of this city's Chinatowns--in lower Manhattan, Flushing or Sunset Park.  But this house is on Anthony Avenue, in a neighborhood that is almost entirely Hispanic and African American.  About half a mile to the north is Fordham University and the Arthur Avenue district, often called "the Little Italy of the Bronx."

When you look at the adjoining house, you can see that its bones, so to speak, are like those of nearby houses, even if the skin, if you will, is that of an ashram.  

When I looked at it for a couple of minutes, its location seemed a little less incongruent.  After all, I had to pedal up a hill--not steep or long, but a hill nonetheless--to reach it.  Also, since Zen practice is not (at least as I understand it) about social status or material wealth, it may make sense that it's in a neighborhood that hasn't been struck by gentrification.

Whatever the reasons why it is where it is, seeing it made the ride more interesting--and caused me to forget about the slowness of my recovery.  

Riveted To The Race

 What's the worst thing about not being able to ride my bike on a beautiful fall day?

Well, if it were any given beautiful fall day, I'd have a long list of choices:  the glow of the early November sun on fallen leaves, the crisp air, the energy of this city.  But because I'm sidelined during the Presidential election, the choice is simple.  It's simply excruciating to be surrounded by talk about vote counts and who wants them to continue--or end.

It's been about 40 hours since all of the polls closed.  Trump wins South Carolina--no surprise, really--but I, and millions of other people--wait with bated breath when Michigan and Wisconsin and Pennsylvania are mentioned.  Biden won the first two, but count in the Keystone State could go on for days, according to pundits.

From the Wall Street Journal

Electoral campaigns are called "races" and elections are described with analogies to sports.  Such language and imagery are apt, but there is a major difference:  I may want a particular rider to win the Tour or Giro or the local crit, or one team or another to win a game, but if someone else emerges victorious, I may be disappointed but my life will go on.  In contrast, one candidate or another winning an election can make a real difference in my life, and the lives of many other people!

I just hope my guy, and team, win!