".... Even though you say your practice is not good enough, there is no other practice for you right now. Good or bad, it is your practice." Suzuki Roshi
Ok so, for those of you who aren't already aware, this week is bike to work week. I know that this post is a little late as I should have made a post informing the fine reader of this blog before hand so you could mentally prepare, but whatever.
So yesterdays ride was good. I don't ever really make an early morning commute so it's hard for me to tell if anybody actually stepped outside their cars and biked to work with us already bad ass commuters. Yesterday was a little cloudy and it was a wet morning, so I hope that if that scared anybody off, they got out their bikes today as I'm looking out the window at sunny skies and 68 degrees.
So why ride a bike to work?
There are a million reasons why one could and/or should ride a bike to work.
-The health benefits are unbelievable as many can attest. And in a day in age when counting calories is becoming as normal as checking the time, I think this would help people tremendously.
- Riding a bike means freedom. When I was a kid their was nothing better than being able to hop on my bike and just ride around the block and bomb some hills. It made going to a friends to play their newest video game even faster. Still today, I love to ride around and bomb hills.
-Not being trapped inside steel death, desensitizing yourself to the world, you really become a much more happy person. Stress levels drop dramatically the longer you pedal and when your ride is done you can't help but smile a little.
-Likewise not pretending your a NASCAR driver, you have a little more time to experience the world in which you live. (Not saying some of us don't occasionally don't pretend we're racing in le Tour de France)
The list could go on and on, and well I'd rather be out riding than making a list of why I should be so I'll be getting to the end. If you're not sure where the nearest trails are to get you to work, Google now offers biking directions to get you there fast and safe. Need a bike? A tune up? Helmet? Water Bottle? There really isn't any excuse good enough not to be riding, stop at your local bike shop and ask questions. There is nothing more bikers like to do than get more people out and pedaling.
My miles yesterday: 17.8
Planned miles today: 23 (taking some detours)
OH! I almost forgot!
This weekend is the Capitol City Criterium and Pioneers Park Grand Prix! I plan on being a spectator for both. If you are racing I wish you luck, if not maybe I'll see you out there watching with me.
Well I've spent the last 3.7 minutes trying to conceive some sort of cool intro to this post and well, that was it. Pretty lame. But that's not the point so lets cut to the chase shall we?
Woke up this morning at the crack of noon, though I couldn't sleep last night for some reason and managed to eventually drift away to neverland sometime around 7 this morning. Anywho, woke up with the usual morning routine, coffee, cereal, yoga, zazen, and the weather channel. My favorite way to start the morning, well most of the time. Anywho.
The weather channel was forecasting a rather dreary day of rain and wind, to which I would later have to bike in/against to get to work. For some strange reason I was really pumped to ride and wasn't all that bothered that riding conditions weren't going to be post card approved. Generally I don't mind riding in a bit of rain, it keeps me rather cool. Lets just say it's a hell of a lot better than 90 degrees with 100 percent humidity in the summer. (Though those days can be equally as fun.)
The ride to work was rather pleasant I saw a huge falcon just chilling on the side of the bike path, it had to at least be 15" tall. For some strange reason when it looked up at me as I rode by it stared me in the eyes and I suddenly felt like a little rat that was about to meet my demise. Magnificent creatures, very intimidating. But, thankfully instead of attacking the sour apple before him, he carried on doing whatever it is that hawks do. I also got to ogle at the design of the water way for the Antelope Valley Project. After all the rain we've had everything was full and flowing exactly as I imagine the designer wanted it to. It's pretty cool. I think I could enjoy some hot summer afternoons there maybe munching on some picnic baskets. (That I've stolen of course)
Anywho, work was a blur. I did a little of this, little of that, little of nothing. Your basics. And then it started to downpour. I was a little worried that I might have to find a ride home as it started hailing and what not. But I called my weather man up (my dad) and asked for a status update on what the storm was supposed to be doing. He said it should all clear up by the time I got off, which it did.
The ride home was awesome. I love the point when you realize your gonna get wet anyways so you might as well have fun with it. That's when I hit the puddles. Everyone I come across I have to ride through, hell I rode under the bridge by the Zoo in hopes that it would at least still have a couple inches on the trail the whole way, but no luck. I just find it funny that most people think I'm absolutely bonkers for riding in such weather, when really it's when I get to have the most fun.
When I got home I decided it was about time to check out Google's Bike Maps feature to see exactly how long my route is to work. My estimate was around 10 miles. I was a little disappointed to find out that it is only 8.9 miles. Though it is still a fairly decent commute.
Okay, so I've finally submitted to it - writing an actual blog. Let it be known now that I make no promises to continue to do so, but I admittedly say that I would like to. Why? Well let's start with the basics and we'll come back.
So what is a Jarrod Homer? Some of you may know me really well, some of you may kind of know me. Just the same there may be some of you who have only met me and well, last and certainly least (I kid - sorta) those of you who haven't met me at all. So this is going to be my attempt to (re)introduce myself to you all. Well, at least how I think I should describe myself in this 15 minute time span of typing away. (I reserve all rights to change without notice any viewpoints, information, status etc. to be stated hence forth.)
My name is Jarrod. I'm a pretty nice guy. (Suitable to change)
I've lived in Lincoln, NE my entire life and I genuinely enjoy the place. It is in my opinion that there are far too many people that bitch about this city, but I don't understand those people at all. Though to be frank, I would be absolutely satisfied no matter where I was from, because that's how I do things. Some might say (this is me being narcissistic really) I am a professional at being happy. How do I do it, well if I told you I'd have to kill you and that wouldn't make me so happy.
Some of you may have read my bio on the profile of this little sector of the internet and read:
"Well you can understand me to be a 21 year old free spirit and creative who loves life and lives out loud. My work is to discover the world; give myself up to it. My blogs generally tend to be random thoughts about life in the form of shitty poetry. Enjoy :)"
Well to start off with I'm lying to you. I'm now 22 so how the hell can you believe anything I say?! But onward we go. Free spirit and creative you say? Well this is just a nice way of saying that I'm a super crazy, super random son of a bitch who love's to have a good time. I suppose I have my own way of thinking about things and I do love the arts, which also works as an explanation - you choose.
Discover the world?! Who the fuck do you think you are? Christopher Columbus?! Well, I must say I would absolutely love to travel the world, even by boat, but that is not really what I'm eluding to here. Sorry. I'm really just paraphrasing the Buddha, "Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it." Let it be known, that I consider myself to be what is labeled as a Buddhist. I seek the truth. I seek a happiness that isn't covered in a layer of paint with shiny new rims. (Though I would like a new bike - but we'll get to that later) I stumbled across meditation a couple of years ago, slowly started reading some books, and have been actually practicing for the last year. I try to meditate everyday, sometimes I don't - but thats ok. I won't get into a whole lot of details on this right now, but if you wondered why I'm so chill, this is one of the factors.
Random thoughts and shitty poetry?! Well, I assume if you read this you'll read some of my earlier posts and well this is rather self explanatory so I'll save you some time. Or whatever.
I love to ride my bike. It's a 09 Specialized Hardrock - sour apple green. It has gotten me to everywhere I've wanted to go in the last year, and I love it. Biking is the best. I'm a big bike advocate and I'm sure some of my posts - assuming I continue with actual posts - will be one of the subjects. (Actually everything I've mention thus far could be a subject but I digress) I'll try and skip some of the details, but if you ever want to go for a ride, hit me up.
I'm starting to get tired so I'll fast forward to the end for this blog post.
So why an actual post Today?
Well as a part of my practice I try to be mindful at all times. I thought to myself, "Well Jarrod, you do have a blog already you could just make small posts about your day to keep track and make sure you're paying attention to your day." And so that's the goal. Though I kinda enjoyed writing this one, so I'm sure I'll have more random blurbs about stupid shit that you don't really want to read anyway.
To me it seems as though The more days that go by, The older that I get, I seem to question everything More and more until I find myself doing nothing but.
Why all the questions? Whats with the worries that weigh this life down? It's as if I'm pouring the cement Into my own shoes hoping that the water Is only neck deep.
But to hope for such a thing is madness. Even if the water is only as you wish You will end up looking like a fool, Stuck to the bottom of this Pathetic stream For all to see.
This is why I must practice to simply just be.
This time around I'll refuse to wear shoes And my only worry will be When will the cow finally eat the moon? Because surely he is out there. And surely I am stuck dreaming.
Fear not oh cow! You will be fed. You shall forever graze. Though content on one Single blade.
There is no destination It's all right here Now
"What is Life?" You say. "What is death?" You whisper. "What do they mean?" You wonder.
I tell you this. Life is death. Death is life. So now that you know, Please fear not! And you shall forever graze.
What does it mean to be nothing more Than anything else? How does it feel? This isn’t an attempt to explain But by the end I hope you understand Because it’s not where But how So lets begin again.
What does it mean to be nothing? More than anything else.
Take a look around you Tell me What is it that you see? Close your eyes Open them again Tell me What is it that you see?
Never fail to find beauty In what you already know And never deny the beauty Of what you may not.
Man made Nature made There is no difference So why look outside yourself? You are man and nature For certainly nature is man.
So this is what its like To be nothing more than anything else Because when you take a second look It is something more Than what you’ve found.
-and so it's I'll bring Raphael to his house for the weekend. I will buy beers for everybody even tho I'll drink most of it - So I'll buy more - Till I go broke - It's all in the cards - We. We? I Don't know what to do- But we're all the same thing- Now I see it, we're all the same thing and it will all work out okay if we just leave each other alone- Stop hating- Stop mistrusting- What's the point, sad dyer? Aren't you going to die? Then why assassinate your friend and enemy-- We're all friends and enemies, now stop it, stop fighting, wake up it's all a dream, look around, you dream, it's not really the golden earth that hurts us when you think it's the golden earth that hurts us, it's only the golden eternity of blissful safety- Bless the little fly- Don't kill anymore- Don't work in slaughterhouses- We can grow greens and invent synthetic factories finally run by atomic energy that will plop out loaves of bread and unbearably delicious chemical chops and butter in cans- why not?- our clothes will last forever, perfect plastic- we'll have perfect medicine and drugs to carry us through anything short of death- and we'll all agree that death is our reward. Will anybody stand up and agree with me? Then good, all you have to do in my employ, is bless and sit down.
With this face: Timeless, Compassionate, Solid, Confused- Wondering what exactly is the appeal For the world I choose. The void screams with such benevolence Yet it is nothing of the sort. There are To many people To many thoughts And their relationship together Is seemingly distraught. I work very hard to just sit here Sit in appreciation for things I've never known to exist And for things I sometimes wish Didn't It's an easy job; Discovering the world Because nothing exists Outside of this mind. There is no other way to feel.
I've found my way back I suffered the journey For there was no trail I left behind. This is no reason to hate the mind. Opening the door The warmth grabs hold So I take my seat and begin. Understanding Respecting Mindfully going To places and times of old. Accepting without correcting I watch them float through. Waving hello and goodbye To these mysterious strangers Forgiving them as I do.
You still make my heart race Only failed once To put a smile on my face Just want you to know You'll always have my love.
I can't help but be a compassionate person. It is my practice. It is what I know. I do believe Allen Ginsberg put it best in his poem:
Song
The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction
the weight, the weight we carry is love.
Who can deny? In dreams it touches the body, in thought constructs a miracle, in imagination anguishes till born in human-- looks out of the heart burning with purity-- for the burden of life is love,
but we carry the weight wearily, and so must rest in the arms of love at last, must rest in the arms of love.
No rest without love, no sleep without dreams of love-- be mad or chill obsessed with angels or machines, the final wish is love --cannot be bitter, cannot deny, cannot withhold if denied:
the weight is too heavy
--must give for no return as thought is given in solitude in all the excellence of its excess.
The warm bodies shine together in the darkness, the hand moves to the center of the flesh, the skin trembles in happiness and the soul comes joyful to the eye--
yes, yes, that's what I wanted, I always wanted, I always wanted, to return to the body where I was born.
Ok folks, this an attempt to make a real post for once, besides all that poetry nonsense. To be honest this is probably cheating considering I wrote this over a period of a few days and it was for a class but I thought I would share.
And away we go.
As I rode across town in a cold rain, making the long journey home after work, I found myself wondering why. Sure it may be due to certain circumstances such as not having a car but there has to be more to it than that.
My first bike was a black and green Huffy that was just my size. I rode it constantly up and down Hollywood Avenue – my huge world in Lincoln, NE at the time. I loved riding as fast as I could down the neighboring hill. Jumping my bike off of every curb was one of my favorite ways of passing the time. Any reason to get out and ride was good enough for me. One of my favorite memories is when I first learned how to ride a bike.
I was three years old when I first learned how to ride without training wheels. As we all are at that age, I was determined to be as cool as the older kids and the training wheels were no help in that matter. I wanted to be able to go riding with my friends; pedaling around the driveway wasn’t exactly thrilling anymore. I was born to roam free so the training wheels had to go.
My father was extremely excited when I asked him if he would remove my training wheels. No sooner than I had asked the question Dad was getting out his tools. The eagerness at which he worked made it easy to tell that he wanted to teach his son how to ride. Accepting his help was hard for me; after all I was three and could do anything on my own. But I obliged and let him do the “dad” thing.
Although he made a valiant effort of running, pushing, and yelling – as all dads do – I just wasn’t going to cooperate. Each time he let go of my noble steed I fell over immediately. I wanted to learn how to ride a bike on my own so badly I would fall on purpose. After a few more tries and a couple self-inflicted bruises, my dad conceded. Today was not going to be the day.
My father seemed as though he knew what I was up to but, being a dad, still wanted to be apart of the magic moment.“We should try again tomorrow” is what he spoke as he took my bike to the shed. He seemed bummed that I didn’t succeed today. I almost felt bad for the old man but I would make him proud.
The next day before leaving for dinner at my uncle’s house, I asked my mom if I could bring my bike. She looked astonished as she had heard about yesterday’s unsuccessful attempts. She stood silently for a moment; purposefully tormenting me I had no doubt. My mother then dared to ask “Do you even know how to ride it yet?”I thought to myself ‘of course I do’; it was just a secret. She then offered up a challenge; “If you show me you can ride it, we can bring it along.”
Without saying a word I darted out back to the rusty old shed and removed my bike from its prison.I knew that the time had come to prove not only myself, but my parents that I could do it. I nervously walked my bike from behind my house to the sidewalk out front.I waited as patiently as I could for Mom to come outside and watch. I was ready to ride.
My mother came outside eager for the show as I slowly mounted my bike. I sat for a few seconds, bruises still stinging, hoping that I wouldn’t fall. I took a deep breath and started pedaling. I went slowly at first but I was doing it! I was riding a bike and I had taught myself how! I rode to the neighbor’s house and back several times.
After my last victory lap, arriving back at my house, my mom was clapping and congratulating me. “Where did you learn how to do that?” she asked in excitement. “I learned myself” was my reply. I pedaled offjust to show her again.
I genuinely enjoy riding my bike everywhere I go. I enjoy the sights and sounds not everyone gets to experience strapped into their cars. I like the fact that it keeps me healthy and hopefully forever young. While some may think I’m a little crazy for riding ten miles just to go work, I couldn’t ask for anything better. The freedom and independence are just too good to pass up.
On those long cold rides home I relish in the joy of just being able to ride. This memory always reminds me to just keep going. If I can teach myself to ride a bike, I can do anything. Sure I may be riding due to certain circumstances but there is more to it than that. Because when push comes to shove, sometimes you just have to get on and ride.
How nice would it be To be able to talk to the world? To pick up a rusty can And send vibrations through it? Messages of peace. Love. Life. Vibrations to shake loose the dirt Laying thickly on the soul. Talk is cheap And I am all but broke.
This world is full. The fears. Useless. My mind is full. The delusion. Nonsense. I sense it in my everything. I am everything. I am nothing.
There is no sense in trying to be someone You are someone. After all if you let go of the fears The necessity for bravery Vanishes. Eager actions cannot exist.
If you make the whole world a foreign country All you can do. All you should do. Is drink it in. Then let it go once more. To be foreign again.
Riding through a world of rainwater But my bottle contains none. The moon is out; the wind I find cool But refreshing Jumping through shadows of white The rains have disappeared . My legs smell of metal As I pedal through the night. My thoughts roaming as I wander. The clouds turn down the volume And I forget being here. Ride into my home To find a thief in my dreams.
My feet barely fit in these Monkey socks of sin Give a wiggle of my toes And my profane humor Shines yet again. Another wiggle more Walking freedom begins.
Well you can understand me to be a 22 year old free spirit and creative who loves life and lives out loud. My work is to discover the world; give myself up to it.
My blogs generally tend to be random thoughts about life in the form of shitty poetry. Enjoy :)
