what is this feeling?
It's been 2 weeks at my new job and I'm unlocking my bike at 2:30AM. Laura, a coworker with many legit restaurant recs, yells out, "I SEE YOU!". She walks by gesturing her fingers to her eyes and to me. I giggle and wave before turning on my visibility lights.
A couple of minutes later, I find myself floating through the quiet streets of North Portland. I'm on my way home. Listening to White Gloves by Khruangbin. It was on speakerphone, only enough for me to hear. The air is cold, almost wet, like it was about to rain. Whimsical lights from Halloween decorations cast shadows in the shape of trees and leaves falling everywhere. It feels like I'm the only one here.
It felt like riding bikes just before the peak of the pandemic. Before I knew what was in store for me that year. When everyone was starting to quarantine, and the Las Vegas Strip was left deserted. I took my bike to Fry's Electronics and rode the entire stretch of The Strip all the way downtown and back without seeing another soul. It was freeing.
I've missed this feeling. But what exactly is it? Is this what they call flow? You know, that thing attention gurus on YouTube talk about when they're doing art or exercise? When people are super focused on painting or building Legos that they go into a "flow" mental state. For me, it quiets my exhausting inner dialogue. My mind regularly feels like a library of a million open books thrown across a room, fighting to be read. These past few weeks of riding my bike has brought me more peace than I thought I could ever have. It's like the books have all found their place.
Before I got home that night, it started to drizzle. I rode a little faster, but I didn't hurry. To be honest, I really didn't even mind.
I will probably still get rain pants and fenders though.