His brain was like a birdnested bait casting reel, cluttered and non-functioning. His perception was obscured as if in dense morning fog. After too much multi-tasking, too many deadlines, and complexity overload, it was time to step away. It was time for him to shut down thinking and simply move. It was time get things sorted out.
He started sluggishly. Spinning cranks felt like trying to stir a bowl of too dry oatmeal. It was deliberate effort. It took a few minutes to get his position settled, but he wasn’t in a hurry. The pedals moved around at 60 rpm, but he didn’t have anywhere to be. He didn’t have a route planned, but he didn’t feel like thinking. He just slowly noodled along.
Instinctively, he found the gravel. Within minutes, he was apart from traffic and down in the Clear Creek valley. There was a steady crunching sound under his tires. Wind tossed branches seemed to wave at him. Tall grasses bowed low, and wildflowers spotted the landscape with fresh color. His shoulders relaxed.
He stood to climb a succession of rollers. He felt the shift of balance as the machine was leaned from side to side. He breathed long slow breaths, and saw sunbeams, like strobe lights, hit his eyes as he rolled below the trees. It was then he realized the sun was shining. He was surrounding by real, tangible things. The earth is not digital.
Clarity of thought returned. Tangles disappeared in an instant like the untying of a shoelace. His mind was able to process the momentum of rolling on two wheels. He remembered the other plans for the day. His obligations were before him, but they did not overwhelm. Like the traveler on a well-worn pathway, he knew exactly the right direction. And like a well-equipped soldier, he was ready for the challenge. But there was still a little more time.
So he pedaled. The rhythm became smooth and effortless. Body and machine merged like a river confluence to flow across the countryside. “This is delightful,” he thought to himself as he noticed the breeze grow stronger, and the clouds rise and darken in the west, “it is springtime.” Consternation was displaced with contentment, and tangled thinking became as an arrow.
So he turned for home.