Root Beer Float

My bike is in the shop. While out on a sunset ride two nights ago, my rear shifter cable decided to pack it in, quitting with a snap, leaving my rear shifter mechanism flaccid and useless. I pulled the hood back on the unit to see what was up, and there, in that low sun caught the sparkle of frayed cable ends, too deep in for me to fix there on the side of the road. I called a friend to pick me up. My bike won’t be ready until later next week. 

                             What to do?

Frankly, I hadn’t been cycling near as much, for the first time in my life, I think. I was trying to replace it with yoga, and yes, there’s a part of that discipline that is helpful. I have mats down on my floor next to my desk so that any time of the day, I can pull off a chatteranga or two, sun salutes, or do some stretching. I never want to do yoga, but I always feel better when I do, so I do it.  I can’t pull my legs over my shoulders. I can’t sit like a yogi, because my hips are not made of jello. They never will be. My body prefers to be on my bike. I’ve always known this and was ready to re-commit to daily rides, but then this cable issue threw a wrench into the spokes. 



Cycling calms me, and gets me out of this goddam building into nature where I can breathe, and ease up on what’s in my head. My recent foray into yoga, however, did inspire me to explore several sturdy iconic pieces of early mystical literature in an attempt to find a more profound spiritual shelf where I might find relief. What was it that I was missing?  Frankly, I think I was already there: 



                 We’re all connected baby! 



But there’s more! Yes, all of those reckless gods, and the good ones, are inside of you. Yes, you are my brother, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make jokes about the stupid shorts you’re wearing, does it? 

                               Does it?


We don’t have to be so precious, do we? Can’t I make fun of your hair? Did you have it styled in a blender? –I'm joking, my friend. You can laugh. You're allowed. Jesus.


 What drove me nuts about much of what I watched about the various beliefs, was this kind of need to tip-toe around in it. Before you get all offended, I’m including my Quaker upbringing in this as well. We never had a How to Write a Proper Joke seminar in Sunday School:

         Lighten Up with your Inner Light.  


That's goofy, I know. My point is that I never, as a kid, came away from Quaker Meeting, thinking, “Wow, that was really fun. Life is great! I can’t wait for next week!” (It certainly didn’t help our family at all, but that’s tired news. )The whole thing, as kind, and as globally conscientious as it is, and it very much is, made me feel guilty.


 Probably one of the most stunning lines that I found in my examination, came from Joseph Campbell in his interview with Bill Moyers, when they’re discussing romantic love in the west, and “libido over credo.” Campbell explains credo– 

“You believe, and then you go to confession, and you run down the list of sins and you count yourself against those, and instead of going into the priest and saying, ‘Bless me father, for I have been great this week,’ you meditate on the sins, and in meditating on the sins, then you really become a sinner in your life. It’s a condemnation, actually, of the will to live.” 

Can you imagine what a difference that would have made? 

“Father, I cleaned my room every day, and while I may not have helped clean up after dinner, I did make my aunt laugh so hard that her root beer float came out her nose.” 

“High five, my dear one! Rock-on until next week!"


Personally, I feel like being a human is a sentence, right now. I’m not enjoying it–anxious as hell with no cunning solution. This life should be more fun, more hopeful; a time dovetailing towards the blooming of previously sewn concepts of compassion, and the acknowledgement of both the fragility, and power of the human spirit. That's where we were headed, I thought. I honestly did, but now, considering the juvenile behaviour of the world leaders–the complicity of many, I am panicking. I am. So, I’m going up to Lake Superior again to try to reset. This isn’t running away, although maybe it is a little, but more as a chance to plug in deeper to nature to find balance. I would like to make fun of your hair, and find peace in the world at the same time. I think there’s a way. There has to be a way, doesn't there?