In last week’s newsletter, I wrote about receiving mail and what I think about happiness. (The comments are fantastic. Best thing on the internet right now.)
Embrace bewilderment
Here is a sign I saw on yesterday’s ride through the Johnson Creek Trail here in Austin.
I thought of the poet Rumi, who wrote: “Sell your cleverness and buy bewilderment.”
@austinkleon A message from my favorite sign
My riding partner is traveling, so I’ve been taking slow, solo rides.
Wandering the streets (and trails) with a wandering mind.
Getting somewhere I didn’t know I was going — that’s the goal, in rides like these, and in making art.
Here is another sign I saw on my way home:
Filed under: signs
Bicycles and re-enchantment
In an essay called “Talking About Bicycles,” C.S. Lewis recounts a “friend” telling him about the different “ages” of his riding a bicycle: first, the bike meant nothing to him, then he learned to ride it, and became enchanted, then, by riding it to and from school, he became disenchanted. Now, taking up the bicycle again, he became re-enchanted.
I think there are these four ages about nearly everything. Let’s give them names. They are the Unenchanted Age, the Enchanted Age, the Disenchanted Age, and the Re-enchanted Age. As a little child I was Unenchanted about bicycles. Then, when I first learned to ride, I was Enchanted. By sixteen I was Disenchanted and now I am Re-enchanted.
I feel this very deeply. I also feel it in terms of the city in which I cycle: I’m not sure I was ever fully enchanted with Austin, but I certainly became disenchanted with it. And now, somewhat thanks to the bicycle, I am re-enchanted with Austin.
There is magic here because there is magic everywhere… if you know how to look for it.
(Thanks, Alan!)
Adventures on two wheels
In the latest newsletter, I wrote about falling in love with my new bicycle. (Got some amazing comments on this one. A subject people are very passionate about!)
