Image by John Gilchrist. CC BY-ND 2.0
In April of this year I began biking to work. It's quite the privilege for me since, until recently, arthritis had stopped me from doing all but the most basic or necessary of physically demanding tasks. Thankfully, medication has arrested and reversed a large amount of the harm that arthritis had done over the past few years. I'm also doubly fortunate that the city of Portland has a bicycle rental program, and that the entire fleet is made up of electric bikes. These e-bikes allow me to take the seven mile trip to work, since it would not be possible for me to cover that same distance with my own bike. Portland is a hill covered city and my knees and hips can no longer overcome the local terrain without the assistance that an e-bike provides. Someday soon I hope to get one for myself, but for now the rental program provides a real benefit.
It's hard to overstate how important these bike trips have become in my life. The Stoic goal is to be fulfilled at every moment no matter our circumstances, but we all have environments that are better suited for us, both as humans and as individuals. For me, turning a relatively passive car trip into a physically and mentally engaging bike ride is a true gift. There are, of course, long term health benefits that come from upping my weekly cardio activity, but what I actually notice in the day to day is that I arrive at work invigorated and that those endorphins accompany me through most of the day. I have also been quite intentional in using these trips as a form of meditation. Ideally, I attempt to stay present in the moment. As I ride, I take in the city: appreciating the neighborhoods and the people I see, feeling my breath and my physical effort. When I allow my mind to wander, I try to focus on philosophical themes such as connection and unity, basically all the cosmopolitan aspects of the Stoic worldview. But this Thursday it was raining, and I found myself needing to do some real work to keep my mind where I wanted it.
When I woke that morning, I knew that rain was possible. The ground outside was wet from evening showers, but as I prepared for the day, it was never more than misty outside. As a Portlander, I have a fair amount of rain gear. I have multiple rain jackets. My biking shoes are waterproof. I even have a pair of water repellent pants specifically meant for rainy day bike riding, but I don't know where they are. When the arthritis stopped me from riding I put them away somewhere. The past few months have been unusually dry so I had yet to seek them out (Which reminds me that I still haven't found them. I'll probably start looking as soon as I finish writing this). When the time came to decide bike or car, I chose bike. As I said, it was only misty at present. I knew it was possible that the rain would pick up as I was biking, but I really wanted the benefits of that ride. So I went for it. Ten minutes later I was soaked.
Specifically, my pants were soaked. All the rain gear worked as intended. The denim of my jeans also worked as nature intended, it absorbed every drop that hit them until they were fully saturated. I found this distracting. The zen of bike riding rapidly became an irritation which I found less than satisfying. I was probably disturbed for around five minutes before I fully noticed the situation and decided to tackle it. What was my problem? It wasn't that it was raining. I like rain. Even in my irritated state, I was enraptured by the refreshing, earthy scent of the rain. The morning was a bit windy and gusts would blow the rain into my face, and on tree covered streets that same wind would shake harder showers down on me, but I just found that invigorating. Still I was annoyed. Why? And that's when I noticed myself imagining other people's opinions of being at work with wet pants. I wasn't upset at being rained on, I was upset at being seen as someone who had been rained on.
Once I saw my problem clearly, I quickly overcame it. After all, why be concerned about another person's opinion of me? It would be one thing if a person were disappointed in me due to immoral actions or some such, that would be instructive, but I was imagining thoughts about wet blue jeans. Who cares? I can do my work in wet pants. I can be a good person in wet pants. There's nothing about the wet or dry nature of any of my clothes that affect my character or even my usefulness to the people I'd engage with once I made it to work. Was I really going to let the opinions of others, imagined opinions at that, sap all the joy out of my bike ride that morning? What is wrong with being wet on a rainy day? After clearing those thoughts out of my head, I still had fifteen minutes to enjoy my ride and take in the uniqueness of that particular morning.
I found the ride instructive. In many areas of life, my understanding of what is and is not important guides me away from irritation, no matter if the negative opinions are real or imagined. But in this novel moment, old habits once again led me down the wrong path. I'm glad that I was observant enough to recognize I was going astray. And I'm grateful to have the skill to quickly find my way back to right thinking. Hopefully that rainy bike ride made me all the more skillful, so that I can more consistently keep on the proper path.