Sunday, April 4, 2010

Happy Easter Sunday to You

Riding a motorbike is also known as "the lazy man's zen." You don't have to trek it up a high mountain in the Himalayas in order to meditate in solitude with the yetis. You hop on the saddle, turn on the ignition, and you're off fully immersed in an envelope of solitude that's invisible to others. Then fear hits you. Not a panic kind of fear that overwhelms your wits, but a sensation akin to walking on a ledge of a highrise building where you're just a step away from falling off the face of the earth from the higher altitude. The remedy is to keep focused on the road to a point that you might not even blink for an entire hour during the duration of the ride without realizing it. Fear does that to you. At least to mere mortals. Believe me. This is where the similarity of motorcycling to the practice of zen becomes quite apparent. Zen is state of mind which you attain if you focus solely on the present despite worldly distractions. It follows that thoughts about the past (what you saw on tv the other night) or thoughts on the future (your destination) only serve as anti-matter to the structure of the present.


Cloudia said...

Exactly right!


Sorry I haven't been visiting as often as I'd like, but I've been
having connection issues that I THINK I've solved. Thanks for YOUr
visits & comments :)

Aloha from Waikiki

Comfort Spiral

RONW said...

Cloudia I knew you'd understand it. The reason I wrote about the "zen" similarity to riding a motorbike, is that Easter Sunday I was riding pass the Dillingham fountain in Kapiolan Park, 15-mph, observing the speed limit, in bright daylight, a car length behind the vehicle in front of me for a safety cushion, police cruiser behind me, a family with their kid in a stroller waiting to cross Kalakaua. This huge SUV is waiting to exit the Dillingham fountain roundabout. He lets the car that was in front of me pass. But abruptly merges infront of me. There ain't no room. Had to swerve before hitting the brakes. The guy on the sidewalk with the stroller went "whooaaaa" expecting metal against metal. I beep my horn, angrily. The driver in the SUV stops. But I've already swerved to his side. I'm not absolutely sure the driver would have acted sorry if not for the police cruiser behind me who was also stopped at the scene. I was more stirred than shaken at that moment. However, the near miss did frail my nerves, believe me. I haven't the slightest idea how the driver wouldn't have seen me. Indeed, I'm all very grateful.