This morning, as I watched someone ride past on a bicycle, I wondered for a moment about the person(s) who invented the bicycle. What reaction must they have gotten the first time they rode through town on a self-propelled two-wheel contraption? Thank goodness they were bold enough to do it, even though they were almost certainly mocked a little for it. Imagine how many great inventions may have been missed throughout history because the inventor wasn’t bold enough to risk ridicule.
Someday, when my children have all grown up and left me for homes of their own, I want to remember what pleasure it once gave me to look in the rear view mirror of my bike and see this…
It has been SO good to be back on my bike this week. As I rode beside the river on my way to work this morning, I reflected on how spiritual it feels for me to be on a bike. I’ve always felt that biking is a prayerful time for me, but this morning it occurred to me that my bike rides are not so much WHEN I pray as much as they ARE prayer, in and of themselves.
It’s not that I start my rides with “Dear God” or make my way through a list of prayer requests. It’s more like I feel connected to the spirit while I ride. The pedaling, the sunshine, the crunch of the tires, the sweat on my brow, the exertion of my muscles, the feel of the handlebars in my grip, the taste of the cool water when I’m thirsty – it all feels meditative and prayerful to me.
Often, my most inspired thoughts visit me while I ride. The spirit breath whispers in my ear and awakens my creativity.
I’ve missed that, in those long cold months of winter.