What we hold dear - David Desjardins
Everyday life has a way of smoothing everything out. Every action becomes a chore. Privileges become entitlements. Days pass by, bringing their share of small joys and misfortunes of equal magnitude.
Until the order of hours that follow one another without faltering is shaken by a force that dispels the inertia of normality.
That's what's happening in the spring of 2020. Confined against our will. Sometimes forced into unemployment. Deprived of freedoms that we took for granted, we are now weighing up the value of what makes life worth living. We are making lists in our heads. We are rethinking the hierarchy of our desires, our needs, our wants.
Now more than ever, I realize how much I need my bike.
Obviously, because of the movement, which is literally vital. The first few pedal strokes outside this spring reminded me of this, like happily enjoying a first glass of wine after weeks of abstinence, or reuniting with a loved one after returning from a trip. A natural gesture. A familiar sensation. But one that absence has made all the more intense.
On the street, familiar sounds came back to me, like rediscovering the texture of skin, the timbre of a voice, the sparkle of laughter. There was the wind in my ears, the hiss of Tires the asphalt, the sound of my breath, different in the cold spring air. The tension in my arms and back, the sun warming me and the breeze chilling the sweat under my Jacket.
A return to familiar territory tinged with anxiety. But the further I rode, the further I got away, reminding my body of the demands of the long Ride, and the more my endorphin-filled mind vibrated gently to better chase away the anxieties of the moment.
Everything came back to me. I rediscovered a mind free from the weight of things, its creativity suddenly reawakened by the movement of the body. A tried and tested process, enhanced by the injection of spring air into my lungs.
The only thing missing were my friends, whom I miss greatly. I will soon see them again on the road, on side roads and in forests. The end of a hibernation prolonged by forced confinement. We will regain our rights to the world, the joy of speeding across the globe on two wheels, and the pleasure of riding together before gathering around a coffee or a beer.
The sunny days are coming. I dream of them as I drive alone through the deserted streets. You too, right?