Bikes, The Hermit, and The Next Right Thing.

Maybe it’s the dump of endorphins, maybe it’s the fresh air and sunshine, or maybe it’s all the dogs I see, but riding my bike has been such an incredible refuge these last several months. I feel a deep sense of connectedness when I’m riding. I feel connected to the earth, to my city, to the people around me. I’m a little sad that I got into cycling during lockdown and haven’t been able to join any big group rides, but I’m honestly surprised at how connected I feel when I’m riding, even if I’m riding alone.

I’ve been struggling a lot lately with the idea of my Work. What does it look like? Who should I be learning from/listening to? Am I actually getting anywhere? This morning, during my newly reestablished practice, these questions were flying around in my head, and stirring up a surprising amount of emotion. I reached for my tarot deck, and I shuffled anxiously hoping for an answer to at least one of these heavily weighted questions. I drew the Hermit, and I was honestly wasn’t sure what it meant. Was is telling me I need to focus on myself and not worry so much about other people? Was it pointing out my tendency to isolate myself from others? Was it telling me to become a monk? I don’t know.

But today, on my bike, all of those scary and heavy questions didn’t seem to make sense anymore. They weren’t scary or heavy anymore. My mind could barely stitch them together, let alone feel any sense of concern or worry over them. Life was just too good. My legs were pumping. I was flying through the city. There were people, there were dogs, there was sunshine, and that’s all that made sense.

And now I’m at home, sitting on my couch, watching Bob’s Burgers, and feeling the subtle throb of my legs. I felt like I should post something to my Conscious Enneagram instagram account, as I’ve been neglecting it lately. I started writing and the first few lines of this blog post are what my thumbs typed out, but it didn’t have anywhere to go. It was just: I feel good when I ride my bike. That didn’t feel post worthy, so I was about to abandon it when I realized, that’s the whole point. That’s what the Hermit was pointing to this morning (among other things, I’m sure). There doesn’t have to be any more than this.

For those of you who don’t know, the Hermit in the tarot is a lone figure, walking by the light of their dimly lit lantern. A lot of the symbolism points to turning inward, going at things alone, and not always being able to see very far into the future. I’ve always associated those things with a sense of fear, like, if I can’t see where this is leading, it must be a scary or difficult time. But today on my bike, I was just on my bike. I was turning the pedals over, right and then left, again, and again, and again. I wasn’t concerned with where all this was leading me (except to find my way home, of course), I was just riding. And it felt fucking amazing. I never realized how good it could feel to move like this, only doing the next right thing, only concerned with the next turn, or the next push of the pedals.

Honestly, I’ve been feeling this kind of Hermit energy about a lot of things lately. I’ve started the podcast back up, and I feel surprised and overjoyed every time I upload another episode. I don’t have an agenda for this season, it will just be what it will be. If I put out three episodes and that’s all, okay. It feels good to be doing what I’m doing while I’m doing it. This blog post feels similar. I’ve shied away from blogging because I don’t feel like it’s something I can do consistently (because it’s not), but why have I let that keep me away from it? What if I just posted this because it’s here, and it feels valuable in this moment, and leave it at that? What if I wasn’t concerned with scheduling time to write each week so I could fill out the blog and gain more readers for the book? Well, I guess I’m going to find out because that’s exactly what I’ve just done. Just the next right thing.