Cycling Samsara — a new blog name for a new life chapter

📍 Neuchâtel, Switzerland (Issue 208)

Sunset on the very tip of the mountain.

I just walked out of Geneva's only Zen centre, and the sky is that pasty, washed-out grey. Later, the sky may turn blue, or — as happens every second day — the clouds from Lake Leman will linger, hovering along the cobbled city streets, enclosing us in that fresh Swiss grey. There is a crispness to the immaculate suburbs of Miremont and Plainpalais, and I saunter beside kids walking to school and professionals ambling to work. There's a noticeable lack of chaos; come to think of it, there is no chaos at all! No scooters cutting me up, no sky-trains overhead. I haven't seen a rat since I've been here. Strange!

My friends. We have tons to catch up on. I am no longer in Asia and haven't written (to my horror) for almost a month. It's been a busy month. I moved continents and began a new chapter.

After fifteen months of travelling, the stars aligned, advising it was time to press pause on my journey east.

This pause came at the perfect time. I have plenty of experiences to incubate from the trip. There is much to brood about. Getting to know new cultures is always confronting, and I recently got to know a few. To continue would have begun to overwhelm. In totality, I weaved for a few months through Europe, then a couple more through Egypt, Saudi Arabia,and Oman, and a full seven months up the Indian subcontinent, three in Nepal, and three in Thailand. Wow! Just writing that down makes my head spin. But to make the list longer would be excessive. Exorbitant, even! So, my bicycle will begin to collect dust until the next celestial realignment points me east.

Heck, I felt some resistance to stopping. My subconscious kicked out something wild: I was in samsara! (damn, I’d never left). One minute, it recognised the truth that 'there is no wrong way to live' and 'surrender to the unfolding', and yet the next, it screamed, "BACK ON THE BICYCLE HEC! Keep journeying, moving; don't stop or settle or confront." I felt insane! Well, which voice did I listen to? I've learned to trust my intuition in the last year. My intuition pointed me to look to the stars, and the stars said — without malice but with tremendous firmness — stop, follow your heart and your head.

Consequently, I sit and write in this adorable café in Geneva, happily tapping away to you.

Anyone who has taken a sabbatical or sat on a bicycle for a while will recognise the freedom that comes from the simple life of getting up in the morning, rolling around a bit, visiting coffee shops, walking into museums, trying some odd street food, getting confused with exchange rates (how many Nepali rupees for a Thai bhat? — we will never know). Or sitting with a book on a park bench watching the tapestry of the world thread itself.

A good chunk of this empty freedom dissipates when building up a life and a routine, although I've only been in Switzerland for a very beautiful twenty-three days. But, as we all know, freedom comes from within. As one friend of mine suggested just before I left Chiang Mai, our practice begins when we get off our meditation cushion. My cushion was more or less a Brooks saddle, a Kindle, and a pair of hiking boots.

It's now time to integrate some of these lessons from travelling, and I have three intentions. (I share them here because they might resonate with where you sit today.)

The first: remain spiritually connected. When traveling, I explored Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism and non-duel teachings. When I peeked inside the proverbial spiritual box, what I saw interested me. The countless dharma talks of Tenzin Palmo and Alan Watts and Joko Beck and Ram Dass pulled me in. The experiences of Bodhi Zendo, Phuktal Monastery, Tiruvannamalai, Amma's Ashram, Kopan Monastery, and others lit me up. I intend to remain connected to these lessons. This is why I attended the Zen dojo this morning with its midnight-blue cushions and washed-white walls (we meditate facing them). However, the ceremony was in French, which eluded me. (So far, I can only order a croissant.)

Second, embrace raw simplicity. I adore the simple life. Aside from two new jumpers, I am living with the same kit I had on my bicycle (and am cold). Though my girlfriend tells me I needn’t wear trousers with holes in, I continue to maintain I'm overdressed. If I'm forced to, I'll die on the hill of simplicity, although there is the forever temptation to buy ski gear, or cycling kit, or hiking jackets, I will (try to) resist.

Third, keep writing as if I'm travelling. There is no intrinsic difference between the forested mountains of Himachal Pradesh and the wooded cops of Worcestershire (my home county). London and Geneva are two of the most beautiful cities in the world, and I will be spending plenty of time in both in the coming months. Most of the writing I have most enjoyed creating looks for the fascinating in the ordinary and the beautiful in the commonplace. I want to continue in this spirit, with absolute honesty with where I am and how I feel.

This is enough of an update for now, I think. But I'm excited to write to you more, I'm excited to be close to home, and thrilled to be beginning a new chapter of my life.

As always, I love to hear how you are, so just reply and say hello.

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P.S. I'm writing a book about the trip. More soon.