Finally a day with nothing planned; no scuba, travel, checking in or out, surfing or driving. I tend to keep moving-Newton’s law: objects in motion tend to stay in motion-for if it’s not one place or activity it’s the next. In the past it was likely all my movement was an attempt to chase or escape something, now it’s genuinely a function of me; the more the world moves around me the more witnessing I gleam. I stay sharp, interested and engaged as things wiz about giving rise to a deep identification with the stillness of my-Self; plus it makes days like these special.
Finding a small garden cafe at the back of a flower shop in the trendy Paddington district of Sydney, on perfect late morning, I relax. It’s one of those brilliant spring days, just before summer arrives with its stifling heat, when I see that everything resides in the infinite moment between time and space; replaying how I got here and remembering I never left. The cozy garden is my personal oasis inspiring the pencil to glide thru my fingers as the mornings thoughts, dare I say insights, imprint themselves recording history.
The future attempts to invade the moment crossing lines that never exist, posing questions: “What am I going to do with my life?-How long before I return home?-What’s the goal?” The future loves to distract me while the Moment continuously reveals the answers. If I didn’t know better I’d be a prisoner-driven to know what never existed-tossed and turned till my sense of direction was forfeit to the Ego’s whims. Luckily I’m blessed with the gift of recognizing the difference, as I watch my hands join together; bowing my head in reverence and gratitude.
Clearly it is all perfect. Among the chaos organized patterns are highlighted as I look passes what I think; in that Moment I’m always greeted by a smile. Tears blur my vision of the material so I can see the eternal; feeling the ego shrink with each word scribbled upon the page. The perfection of this journey announces itself with each breath; gradually losing the distinction between in here and out there; knowing a breath is a breath no matter the depth of the sea above me.
Wandering Sydney is the theme of the day, aided by the hotels complimentary mountain bike. I wonder what adventure awaits as I explore the character and landmarks of Oz’s most famous city. Excited to embrace the new gifts Life sees fit to bestow upon me as I wander the inner recesses of my-Self; ready to do the same with Sydney.
[---The 2nd 1/2; after the ride--]
The afternoon was a self directed biking adventure of greater Sydney. The folklore of Bondi Beach and the prediction of swell drew me to start at the beach. Mother Nature provided a perfect day, the sun shined as a mild breeze regulated my body temp, keeping me cool as I climbed hills and warm along the flat straight-aways. I arrived at Bondi after tossing the bike over the fence separating the Expressway and surface streets; I climbed over after it. If not for the barrage of honking cars I would have found myself in quite a pickle; there was no sign warning me of the impending danger. Making my way back to the surface streets I navigated the remaining distance to the beach. The swell was waist high with way too many heads in the line-up; I decided to remain dry. However I could see, with enough size, that both sides of the cliffs lining Bondi’s boarders and the middle beach breaks would work with some sick sections.
Fully entrenched in “go” mode-prepared to tackle Sydney on bike (and that’s exactly what I did)-I headed north from Bondi. Attacking the neighborhood streets that traverse the Cliff-edge shoreline leading to the mouth of Sydney’s enormous harbor I reached the headland. From there I circumscribed the harbors south shore like it was my own yellow brick road, stopping to absorb the gorgeous bays and parks that provided a brief reprieve from my constant peddling. Taking pictures at various vistas, each one closed that gap between me and my destination; the world famous Sydney Opera House.
The road was fraught with dangers…unmarked expressways, unwieldy motorists, unaware pedestrians, unruly hills and a park range. All in all the trek consumed 4+ hours and 25+miles, sharing with me some of the most spectacular views I’ve ever had the pleasure to encounter. Without a map to guide me I rode virtually non-stop; trusting my instinctive sense of direction. I wonder to this moment where the energy came from, even when I finished the loop, arriving back at the hotel, I felt I could have just kept on going.
Today was an unplanned masterpiece of touristic genius accompanied by a complete surrender to the Moment. The gentle breeze dancing with the tree just outside the window illustrates the joy of presence and the power of never minding circumstance. The blessings are without an end-for I feel the familiar tingle of Praná running down my spine opening my heart and the 1000 pedaled lotus. Recognizing that the uncomfortable confines of this body is an itch that reminds me of the Moment’s perfection and my dis-identification with anything witnessed.
I’m in surrender, unaware of what’s next yet totally in tune with the ever expanding Now. The goal of the days ride was Sydney’s perfectly framed Harbor Bridge and Opera House; yet I have a hard time believing that my goal has ever been anything less than the recognition of my-Self.
