I bought a new bike.
Actually, I didn't buy it, H did, I just picked it out. We went into the bike shop, and one of the first things she says, is "Don't look at the price!", which I didn't, sort of. I looked but ignored it. I settled for a Trek, one from their Hybrid line, a really nice bike and one that seems good for me. I haven't really ridden it yet, around the neighborhood near the bike shop, but that's about it. Tomorrow, perhaps, if all goes well.
I used to ride a lot, two, three times a week, spring, summer, fall. Then I got away from it, for many reasons, time, age, other priorities. I became more focused on other things, and riding did take up a lot of time, two, sometimes three hours a trip. But back then I had the time, or so I thought, to do things like ride a bike, watch hours of t.v., take on different challenges, adventures, anything to fill up the time in a day, not knowing or realizing that someone was asking me to come home, in a very loud voice, for many years. It had been so long since I'd heard this voice I didn't even recognize it. It seemed alien, disturbing. His voice can be like that, when you've been away for such a long time, a very long time in my case, and the ears of your heart can become encrusted with the grime of the world. Mine was like that, encrusted, and covered over with many rocks, put there by me, with every action that I offended God with. His Church I offended. His Mother I offended, and His Son I offended. But through all these things that I did, worldly things with no thought of any consequence, I rode. With a bike ride everything went away, all the cares of the day, the anxieties, doubts, the voice, everything. It was me challenging me, me pushing myself into oblivion, physically. In a new-age sort of modern way I guess maybe then I was close to Him, in the silence of the ride or the sounds of the world as I passed through it. And it did keep me fit, which is probably most important, and that is really why I'm going to get back to it, for the fitness part and also to ride together with H. We do mostly everything together, and with God's grace we will ride together, this time! At 58 I'm not going to beat myself up anymore. I have to take care of my body, not abuse it, for it was given to me by our Father in Heaven, to take care of as best I can. It's the same with the other aspects of my life. I've tried to jettison all of those bad habits and bad choices that kept the rocks and crust surrounding my heart. Through prayer and guidance I've learned how to say "I'm not going to do this" and do it, and "I don't need this", and not have it. I'll not lie; these actions are accomplished only about half the time, the un-learning of a lifetime of darkness will take the rest of my life. I look at it this way; for every two or three stones I lift from my heart I manage to replace them with at least one. But I don't really mind the labor. It is a life of penance, isn't it? For me it is. In seeking Him, the silence is supreme. The Narrow Way is ever so hard, but oh so quiet when one can see the road clearly.
So I will ride again, maybe tomorrow, just a warm-up ride. I'll get my bike blessed by Fr. M., a good blessing from his old black book of prayers and blessings, from the Old Rite, complete with Holy Water. I will ride and pray, and thank God for His consolations and praise Him for the desolations as He gives them to me. I hope to write more here or perhaps on my other blogs that I haven't touched in months and months, but time will tell. I don't want to whine.
First Rule: The love that moves and causes one to choose must descend form above, that is, from the love of God, so that before one chooses he should perceive that the greater or less attachment for the object of his choice is solely because of His Creator and Lord. (from) Christian Warfare