My New Korean Bike

A silver frame with some cerulean blue mixed in. The seat is grey and the rack on the back is sliver with grey fenders underneath front and back. It is Korean made and new. It arrived today in a box at the school I work at by delivery. The bike cost an equivalent of about $55.00 dollars and the delivery fee about $6.00, it is the first brand-new bike I have owned since age ten when I had a Black Ghost sting-ray with a sissy bar in back, it was a five speed and I loved it till I crashed it going down a hill and landed in the hospital with five stitches in my right knee. The scar is still there. I have a new bike.

This is significant for many reasons; the one that moved me to start filling this blank page is that somewhere in the mid-late nineties, I made a personal commitment to stop buying new. This commitment has included everything in my life except food, plant seeds and underwear. I have been pretty vigil about this for the most part with a few alternative choices while traveling around in my van for five months this past year that added some new, simple tan leather shoes and a pair of Keen hiking shoes I found at a privately owned camping store for $30.00 at 80% off. I wore them bike riding tonight. My commitment was about recycling more than anything. Economy factored in since most of the last fifteen years has been one of part-time jobs or long-term retreats without income, to say money was not part of the equation would be misleading. I have found ways to wear clothes that were either purchased at thrift shops or dumpster diving to support my professional, spiritual and athletic lifestyle successfully. The few books that I felt the need to own a copy of came from half.com, garage sales and more dumpster diving. Furniture has only been found through sidewalk dumping and an occasional garage sale. That has ended now since residing in South Korea. Koreans do not do used, period.

There are no thrift shops, vintage clothing stores, e-bay equivalent and only two days a year are reserved for garage sales, yes two very specific days, otherwise it is illegal. Koreans do not believe in taking ownership of other peoples belongings. I have asked why and received peculiar looks as if I was asking to have sex in a public place with a stranger in the snow or something. They do not do used. I assume that they pass on items to each other among friends and family since Koreans typically are frugal, practical, simple and ecological by nature. My gut tells me they do not know why they do not buy used stuff really. My gut also tells me this is one of the many Buddhist traditional thinking concepts passed on so long folks do not know its origin or purpose, kind of like wearing underwear, which really have no purpose, nor do top sheets in bedding. The reason I think it is Buddhist is that I believe they do not want to take on somebody else's negative energy, imprint or Karma. This has always been a great challenge for me and my Teacher has several times questioned my choices on such matters. Used items, regardless of what they are or why we buy them, carry the imprint of those before us. A used bed carries all the sex, lust, dreams, nightmares, isolation and fears that have may have been part of the previous owners world. And the reverse is true as well; the love, joy, sharing, connection, fantasies and mutual-orgasms that may have taken place between the sheets carry an imprint too. What about a couch? Have there been arguing, fights, seduction, television, violence or desperation in its history? Furniture like homes and walls have histories, these histories can speak to us directly or not so directly but their voices will be heard. So the challenge has been to discern before purchasing if my energy and their history can be well matched or not. I have walked away from great and free items that rationally would be perfect for me but through inner discernment about possible contrasts in energetic tendencies. I have bought used clothes that I gave away after one wearing since they didn't feel right on my body or field.

Here in Korea that does not matter, the choice has been wiped from my range of possibilities. I am both grateful and disappointed in this process. I always feel better when I make the decision, not when the Universe does it for me, which is not a complete truth either but another tale for another day.

I enjoyed taking my bike for a test ride tonight. It is a small bike, really too small for my body. As someone who has used bicycles as his main source of transportation since 1995, comfort on a bike is important to me. But it is fine for the next nine months, if I feel guided to stay here longer; I will share this bike with someone else and get a better one that fits me. It felt good sweating enough to know about it and letting the wind flow across my face and cheeks. Seeing my neighborhood with new eyes that are moving faster than walking but slow enough to swallow my environment that buses cannot produce. I love bike riding, it is such a nice and peaceful way to move about through the world.

In 1996 in Bloomington, IN, USA, I was a guest at a meeting of The Simple Living Group. They were discussing how cyclists tend to be kinder and gentler than motorists on the road. My experiences echoed their theory on friendly bike riders. I shared a story that then made my nickname “Smile Michael” from that day forward among this group of folks that became friends of mine. There was this guy who owed a local rare and used bookstore on the square in the center of town. He had great books at semi-fair prices but he is a miserable, unhappy, elitist who made the energy and the experience of shopping in his store downright awful. I stopped going there but used to pass him every morning while riding my bike to work while he walked to his store with that same “I’m an intellectual, arrogant book worm who knows more about literature than you do you stupid un-cultured fool look”. I said “Hello” to him and smiled every morning without even an acknowledgement for almost two years five times a week. One day he nodded back to me. A few months later, he said, “Hi” and almost smiled; the closest he came to an actual smile in my six years in Bloomington. My work was done. Another town, another bike ride.

I have a brand new shiny silver and blue bike, I cannot wait to see what new adventures it will bring me!