14th September The Fearer of Storms

Meditation, like love, comes in many forms and disguises. There was a huge Buddhist university at a place called Nalanda in northern India which is now a world heritage site. It is thought to have been destroyed by invaders from the West around a thousand years ago. Many of the monks took flight northward towards Tibet via Nepal and many of the practices found today in these areas are said to have their origin in Nalanda. Meanwhile Buddhism in India was virtually extinguished. Tibetan Buddhism is notoriously complicated and you will find every possible permutation available in the practice of meditation; eyes open, eyes closed, mouth open, mouth closed, standing, lying, walking you name it. So last night's thunderstorm took me to a place that I think is called Pratyahara in yoga. This is where we reflect only on the input of the senses, sounds, smells, touch and visual impressions. A thunderstorm is certainly a powerful and auspicious event for someone who likes meditation as it is purely and simply a manifestation of cosmic energy, and what are we, and what are we aware of but only the tiniest of particles imaginable, held together with energy?

The storm lasted until about 3am when I think I may have finally got to sleep. But my camping place is quite close to the road and I was awakened by the noise of traffic at about 6:30. It occurred to me that I could abandon my sense of being annoyed by the rude awakening simply by using it as an object of concentration for meditation. It was quite fascinating. The technique as taught to me through the Bihar School of Yoga, is to avoid allowing the awareness to settle on one sound alone but to keep on extending the awareness to take in new sounds. I soon discovered not only that the sound of a vehicles tyres penetrated the awareness before the sound of its engine, and that it also endured longer, but also that the sound of birdsong can be heard above the noise of the cars if only I would allow my attention to follow without the interruption of opinions and preferences.

There is no sunshine this morning so I will have to wait a few hours before packing the tent away and resuming the journey.

By noon everything had dried out, I'd made some breakfast and the sun even started blazing as I set out from the Aire. I first had to climb out of the valley of the river Thouet which sure stoked up the inner fires, but it brought me out onto a high plateau and a lovely quiet straight B road. For the next 3 hours I was in cycling heaven. To my right in the West lay the city of Parthenay about 15 km away and over it hung a huge black storm cloud. Glad I wasn't going that way. My route passed through open farm land and forest and was blessed by an appearance of the Virgin Maria Madre at the side of the road.

 I was prompted to abandon all the fantasy and mental diahorrea that usually accompanies my cycling and say a few rounds of the rosary. For all the sadness in the world that cannot be helped otherwise.

 The cloud to my right seemed to be getting bigger and bigger, could it be it was moving eastwards towards me? I took a look behind and was shocked to find the entire Western and Northern horizon had been enveloped by this enormous storm. As I hit the village of St Martin de Foullioux in the sky ahead of me to the south, the same ominous black cloud was forming and it began raining. As luck would have it there is a fine bus stop in this village, with a public toilet alongside, next to the Marie. It even has a bookcase full of books!

If you zoom in you might even see my lunch.

Which brings me to the subject of food. My son Joe has been telling me a lot about his increased well being since forsaking heavy carbohydrate based meals. My kinesiologist, Lara, also found that I was sensitive to gluten and should avoid wheat. So in the mornings I eat just fruit and nuts with a cup of green tea and it really does keep me going all day.

Being France I can't resist the bread and cheese occasionally, but it's becoming more and more obvious to me that this actually reduces my energy rather than increasing it. This is still a lesson I'm struggling with as I do love my carbs, but I am slowly getting convinced that change would be beneficial to the outcome of this journey. 

I waited two and a half hours for the rain to stop and I had to put on some warmer clothes as it had turned quite chilly. 22km to the next town of any size, St Maixent, where there was a famous military school and I was hopeful that there would be either a camping municipal or an aire. But a Google search turned up nothing. With less than an hour before nightfall I sent out a couple of guest requests on warm showers and just as I entered the town I was welcomed with a message from Andre and his wife Marie Edith. We didn't have a lot of time to share before bedtime, but enough to exchange our cycling experiences and stories of the road. They were incredibly understanding and welcoming as they had endured the same storm earlier in the day.

I could hardly believe my good fortune to be sleeping in a warm bed once again.

https://youtu.be/-BjzPDv5lP4