There I was, almost hostage to the experience–my body still, eyes wide open, and keenly aware of my sense of smell. I acknowledged the lilacs, burning leaves, fresh cut grass, cow manure, hot dogs cooking on a grill, a forest of fallen pine needles… And although none was earth-shattering on its own, I was overwhelmed by how fully present the succession of scents made me feel. I was having a Zen experience on the back of a motorcycle.

Granted I was a passenger and didn’t have to focus on the mechanics of maneuvering, but it occurred to me that perhaps there’s something more to this pastime. Maybe it’s not simply the cachet of driving a Harley-Davidson, the high price of gas forcing commuters to find a cheaper way, or the allure of a mid-life crisis adrenaline rush that’s drawing a wider demographic to riding. Perhaps it’s the pursuit of meditation. People have recommended that I read Robert Pirsig’s book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance but until now I didn’t know what the two had to do with each other.

Truly, when in the course of daily life does the average professional get to simply be? Between frustrating commutes, quotas urging us to produce more in less time, and the constant juggling of career and family, few Americans are inclined to put much effort into seeking any kind of spiritual practice even if they’re aware they should.

A recent episode of 30 Days echoed this sentiment. Filmmaker Morgan Spurlock spends 30 days living on a Navajo Reservation trying to understand the culture. Each morning he was awakened to “race the sunrise” and consider his intentions for the day. When he returned to New York City, he continued the practice, although it’s probably a bit more difficult to feel in touch with nature there than in the vastness of the desert.

After college I spent a summer in the Big Apple relieved to make my exodus from rural life. My plan was to work my way up in the publishing field and become a famous editor. After a couple of months wandering among skyscrapers, commuting on subways, and exhausting myself by the endless search for affordable food, I realized that I missed the open spaces, fresh air, and the freedom of driving down a country road.

This morning as I walked from my car to the building where I work in Radford, I saw the sun peaking over the roof. An internal voice reminded me to “be present” and I realized I’d made the right decision.

What activities help you to find equanimity? Understanding that each person defines “spiritual practice” for him or herself what are the practices you’ve adopted to keep your inner balance?

Taryn Chase is hoping the purchase of a Vespa qualifies as a spiritual investment. (Photo courtesy of Clive Andrews.)