Ballad Of The Bike Slow

This morning the air is cleaner and fresher. Dawn has broken a beautiful summer day; the sun comes through the window and invites me to exit. My legs still resent path yesterday, so I decide to go for a short walk. Nothing special, just shoot aimlessly or destination, with the purpose of being a while alone. On my bike crossed urbanizations, polygons, barrios deserts until I leave behind the world and the city and go to my ways; at that moment everything flows already soft. My mind relaxes and invites me to think, wait, observe.

I’m looking for my pace until it reaches that magic moment in which I feel a sense of peace that is telling me that, again, I have found my site, my place. Then the silence of the countryside is transformed into words and begins a dialogue with nature and my spirit. While I walk I think everything has a rhythm in this life. I see birds, plants, trees, clouds, and feel your rhythm and interior heartbeat that given its nature. How different the natural rhythm of that other our pace, chaotic and! absurd, you cannot drag! I think about how wise people have a pace paused in its interior. A pace that lets you time and space to your soul so that you go out to the world and spread your message like a blessing.

Be here, alone with my bike is my way to find my own pace, my space, my time. Life goes on, but my around, in a mysterious way, disappears all. Time is prolonged and infinity is no longer only an abstract idea, but something material that can be seen clearly, solid and strong as a stone in the road. And so, in every curve, I perceive the perfection of the world and in that strange moment doubts and pain disappear. Milan Kundera said: the slowness is the memory and speed is oblivion. I have thought much about this phrase and I have come to the conclusion that the slowness has the key of wisdom. Find your rhythm in this life and you’ve found your way. Follow your own pace and learn the art of waiting. My bike listening she knows very well that, we arrived slowly, anywhere – and thus in slow, the time extends to infinity, extend the hours and day is a blessing. All the turmoil of the world disappears and I become one object more, as the tree beside the road. And at sunset, back to my inside with any response; sometimes just return that I left, but always worth the trip. Angel steps original author and source of the article.