It is interesting to consider transitions through practices that become daily rituals...The beginning of my daily journey to work on "little Blue" required much focus and energy directed to the very act of bicycling, to maintain balance and composure. I generally arrived at work tired from the exertion, particularly on Mondays when my body forgot and got lazy over the weekend, and often tired after a day of work, left wishing I could just drive home.
Phase two became less concerned with the essential elements of the journey as balance and bicycle handling skill improved, and instead my attention was directed to the scenery. Throughout the seasons and changing light, as my attention shifted from house to house, from park to neighborhood walkers some days it seemed as though I saw those houses anew for the first time. As the leaves fell from the trees, days shortening, and I brought out my bike light to fend off the deepening darkness of evening, the houses gradually added their own protection against any thought off winter gloom by adorning first pumpkins and later cheerful Christmas lights.
Freedom and exploration came in the third phase. Little Blue, took me to explore downtown where meeting dear friends for weekly breakfast, became a new delightful part of life. It became a part of the bounty of my life and fellowship--meeting friends (intentionally) to run and swim and meeting friends in fortunate happenstances ending in joyfully spontaneous dinners and evenings of laughter. Venturing out beyond former bounds mon bicyclette most gracefully carried my tired body through my first triathalon. It was these days I arrived at work and home not concerned with the effort of the ride, but elated at the freedom of fresh air and good physical exertion.
Toward the end, my thoughts began to shift towards the transitions ahead. My mind filled with thoughts of the life ahead, of the news which might wait for me in the mailbox when I arrived at home, it was at this time in which this daily ritual most became a part of me...And when news came, and my rhythms began to change I knew this sweet, sweet time was ending. I woke up and realized I had been living out of my dream, and it was a good gift granted to me. It was in many respects a fleeting time. Yet its marks upon my life were not. Somewhere in the midst of bicycling to work every day, now supported by a hint of quads now visibly strengthened by the daily journey, my knees stopped hurting--which a long ago summer of physical therapy had only hoped to heal. The community of that place also left its lasting mark upon me in measures of grace and love.
So I moved south to medical school with "Little Blue," to a place without physical seasons, hostile to bicyclists, and deeply in need of the air of freedom. It is here adventure awaits!
On mon bicyclette...
