I learned some stuff this summer.
I learned that bike life in Long Beach is not about the bike at all.
It's about living life without a car.
It's about what life is like if you don't get in and zip on over any time you like.
Life without a car is calculated and slow paced.
At first I thought I might be missing out on something.
I wasn't sure what but I could see from the pace of cars zooming past me, I was
indeed missing something.
I missed out on fabulous events that happened far away.
I missed on out many of my friends' lives and that has been a sacrifice.
I missed out on opportunities that called out to me from even farther away places that you can only get to in a car.
But after a very short while, I gained a new perspective about what I really need.
Which is really nothing much. And that has turned out to be a true luxury.
I learned how to plant a garden and water it and wait for things to grow.
I learned that my neighbors, who are older and ailing, have gifts to give me.
I learned that I am needed right around me, in ways I would have never thought of.
And I have simple gifts to give too. Mainly my time and attention.
The beauty of choosing not to drive is this:
I feel awake. Alive and available.
Without a car and so many places to go really fast, I am wide-eyed, alert and ripe for the interactions that cross my path.
I don't have the burden of choice. It's miraculous.
I am available in a full and thoughtful manner for the spontaneous moments.
I give more to the planned events of my life. Slow and steady - on my feet. Ready.
It's good to be without the car.
We've renewed our no-car commitment for a second year
and continue our journey into radical wellness.
Until next time,
Be well little cell.
Ruth
