Tuesday, September 1, 2015

mental turmoil

Sometimes in reaction to stress and frustration Lohbado would go down to the river, or up the mountain. Exercise reduced the stress. Sometimes when alone, or riding a deserted street, he cried out in agony and sometimes in euphoria. Stress tossed his mind between heaven and hell during a long bike ride. He worked things out. At the beginning of a ride, often his mind was like a waterfalls, but at the end of the ride, his mind calmed down like a smooth flowing river.

Lohbado rode to the huge old cemetery on the mountain. He rode up a steep lane then stopped to relax at a bench under some oak trees. He enjoyed the eroded grave stones and how the lettering often became deep black. Sometimes orange, gold and green lichen grew on the old stone. Under the ground were millions of corpses, skeletons, ashes to ashes and dust to dust. Eventually the body becomes a corpse to be buried or cremated. He gazed at hydrangeas and tiger lilies. The beauty and quiet of the graveyard filled him with a joy to live and a yearning to die and have done with it. Life inspired him with beauty and truth. But the way of the world was painful.  

Mental turmoil reminded him of the extent of his own confusion. Just when he thought he had things sorted out in a peaceful manner, external events stirred things up. His mind became agitated like a pile of leaves. Eventually the wind dies down. The mind settles. It’s a process of rest and agitation, confusion and clarity. 

Long bike rides worked like good medicine.

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