Diny rides too close, her headlight in my left mirror nearly blindsme as we curve around the mountain. Maybe she’ll back off if I slow toa crawl and then accelerate, but no, she hangs on, probably immersedin the kind of internal dialog monotony encourages. Finally, infrustration, I wave her ahead, then immediately regret it as she racesup to tailgate Teresa. I race up to tailgate Diny for a minute, myheadlights in her mirrors, then drop back, hoping she’ll see that sheneeds to create more space, but she doesn’t.
Shoulda woulda coulda…
My body is stiff from sitting in the same position for so long inthe cold and being jarred from the vibration of the engine and thethumps in the road. I catalogue each ache and pain, each
and then realize that I really must stop this before Ispiral down into a useless misery. I remember the lessons of aVipassana meditation course I took a year ago and give it a whirl,beginning the slow, tedious exercise of scanning the body, notingsensations from the top of the head to the tips of the toes and backagain, ignoring itches and pains that are not in the proximity of myimmediate attention. It is not as easy as it sounds. The results are surprising. The crown of my head is warm, myhair is plastered against my forehead, my left ear is bent backwardsinside my helmet, there’s a leak in my jacket zipper that’s letting in apinhole of icy air, elbows are good, fingertips are freezing and numb,my rear end aches, both knees are stiff, one little toe tingles, a big toeis jammed hard against my boot. I scan, become aware, resistassigning a value to these sensations—pleasure or pain, it will alwayschange—
is a Sanskrit word that means impermanence. More thanthat though, it implies the state of inevitable change so there’s no useassigning a value, a judgement to a sensation or a situation becauseit’s going to pass. Somehow, sometime, it’s going to pass.
Annica Carla KingOne Lost Lonely Night on a Motorcycle in China