The path to enlightenment on two wheels
A cyclist’s dukkha
Each day starts the same. The same thoughts enter your head. Will I have good legs? How long should I ride for? Can I go further than ever before? Can I go faster than ever before? There is no thought of pain or suffering, despite them being inevitable. Maybe this day, the suffering will cease, maybe self-awakening will land upon you. To begin with, everything is easy. A ride begins with hope, and thoughts, if you have them, are positive. Your mind wanders around, dealing with issues that were left untouched in the normal rush that is daily life. But where does it go from here? It only goes one way. As you continue, fatigue sets in, and the pain and suffering begin. Sometimes this happens soon, sometimes less so, but it is an inescapable fact.
And does it matter where this happens? We all know that the only Zen you find on the top of a mountain, is the Zen you bring there — it’s now a tired saying. But what does it mean for a cyclist? Surely we are closer to enlightenment on a traffic free road made of the smoothest tarmac, with beautiful backdrops of nature’s finest vistas? But no, this cannot be true, because the suffering still exists. If anything, it is amplified! Free from mundane distractions, and in this perfect place, your legs scream louder, and your human frailties are more sharply in focus, than ever before.
And even then, when you reach the summit, your suffering ends, but your victory is only temporary. Cycling nirvana by definition means you must be cycling — you cannot stop. So you can’t enjoy the moment for too long, for this is counter-productive. Instead you must descend back into the valley. Perhaps this is your nirvana — falling under the power of gravity, carrying great speed for little effort? But wait, again this falls short. Even the psychopath feels some fear, and fear is an emotion incompatible with an enlightened being. The descent may be invigorating and and exciting, but Nirvana it is not. And all to soon you are back at the valley floor, ready to begin the suffering again. And what sort of cosmic joke is it that the enjoyment of going down is inevitably so short-lived compared to the hell of going up?
So maybe the opposite is true. Maybe you are closest to enlightenment when the suffering is most intense? When the rain lashes, the wind blows hard in your face, when the cold creeps in firstly to your hands and your feet, and then starts creeping towards your core. Now your misery is complete. But here there is an opportunity. Now the pain in your legs is inconsequential. Your lungs may be rasping, the effort of shifting more Oxygen in and out of your body faster than it was designed for, but what is this now but another sensation to throw in the mix. If here, sensations begin to lose their value judgements, and thoughts start to melt away, then this is your moment. Every fibre of your being is now being exercised to achieve one goal only — one more pedal revolution. Time melts away — the suffering appears endless, but deep down we know that every sensation, every moment, all pain, all suffering — all will pass. Everything is temporary.
