Bicycle Punk: the strange relationship between darkness and light
Buckle up, friends, tough post ahead. I believe that darkness is necessary, in order for light to exist. And the world seems awful dark right now. So this is going to have to get dark before it can get lighter.
Many of you know I help organize Portland Bike Party, a monthly social ride that attracts hundreds of riders. Our ride was scheduled for today, but in the wake of the Lewiston tragedy, the volunteer organizers’ group has passionately debated how best to go forward. We’re making an official announcement soon.
But there’s some things this has compelled me to say, about the relationship between light and darkness, safety and danger.
Darkness runs in my family. Over the years, three of my grandparents killed themselves, and my parents suffered from untreated mental illness.
I have no shame about this anymore. Mental health _is_ physical health. Some people have a family history of diabetes or heart attacks or cancer, this happens to be mine. I just have to practice strong mental health hygiene, and a huge part of that is the bicycle.
As a kid, my BMX was an escape pod to eject out of a painful house. I could ride to a friend’s house and experience normalcy for a little while.
As a teenager, I vowed not to be like my parents. That’s a cliche for a lot of kids, but for me, it was a matter of life and death. I had to figure out how to be different from them in order to survive. The BMX got stolen, I got my driver’s license, but the pure joy and feeling of freedom remained.
As a young adult in Boston, I started biking to work, to combine my travel and exercise time. But the bicycle quickly showed itself to be the best antidepressant I could get. Part of the antidepressant effect is simply exercise. Mental health is physical, and exercise is an essential part.
Another essential part, frankly, is the danger.
Cycling among cars is like Pamplona’s Running of the Bulls. There’s potholes and parked car doors opening and people stepping off the curb without looking. And unfortunately, a small minority of drivers boast about making “punishment passes”, where they intentionally shave close to scare cyclists off the road.
While cycling, you have to give your complete and undivided attention to the present moment, the entire time. Meaning you can’t devote any brainpower to your other “problems”.
I worked for startups, an insanely stressful environment. But I would arrive at the office with a clear head, a body ready to sit, and a sense of gratitude that I had already accomplished the hardest thing I would do all day. Going home was the reverse, where I sweat out all the stress of the day without thinking about it.
Another essential part is the camaraderie. I’ve made lifelong friends through bikes. All cyclists have something deep in common: we take an explicit risk when we get on our bikes. It seems like the safe thing to do would be to ride in a car.
Safety is a tricky concept though. The Journal of American Medicine published a huge study a couple years ago that showed cycling reduces “all cause” mortality by 5%. That doesn’t sound like much, but it means that if you cycle regularly, you’re 5% less likely to die for _any_ reason. The slight increase in the risk of a crash is offset by the greatly decreased risk of diabetes, heart attack, stroke — and yes, my personal favorite, suicide.
In other words, counterintuitively, I’m actually safer biking to work than driving.
But there’s even more to it. Staring at the danger of death — the darkness — helps me see the light of life.
I have a friend in Ukraine who told me, a couple months after the invasion, she had never seen so many acts of kindness and courage in her entire life.
A strange relationship exists between darkness and light. The firefighter needs a burning building to run into. Doctors and nurses need disease and injury to heal. Parents need the vulnerability of children to nurture and protect.
Staring at the sun or hiding under the covers both make a person blind. We can only see clearly when there is a balance.
In times of light, we need to look towards the darkness, and vice versa.
So — spoiler alert — it appears the official ride will be rescheduled, as it’s supposed to be a party, and the party vibes are gone. But I know a lot of my fellow cyclists want to show up in a celebration of gratitude for life, and an act of defiance against those who deny it. I’ll be there.
I love all of you. I love both the darkness and light. I love life.
Sincerely,
Bicycle Punk
