May You Be Happy

I inherited an awesome road bike a couple months ago and have since become a regular rider. I ride for 20 miles twice a week, sometimes solo, sometimes with friends, sometimes with a bike group. I pepper shorter rides in between, depending on weather and desire. It's been a game changer on so many levels!

One Sunday last month, I was sort of in a mental slump, but I'd told myself the night before that I would ride to Windmill Point and back, a 20-mile ride from my house in Irvington. Normally movement clears my head and helps me shake off frustration or self-doubt, but it wasn't happening the first 10 miles I rode.

On the way back, I passed Glynda Antonio's house. Glynda owns LaSource Spa in Kilmarnock and she and I started our businesses around the same time. She's an exceptional masseuse and I've always admired her talent and passion for her vocation. I thought of that as I was riding by, and without thinking, I said (out loud), "May you be happy."

My mood was immediately elevated.

I passed the homes of other people I knew (the Burkes, Archards, Browns, Waylands, Majeskis...) and did the same thing: "May you be happy." "May you be healthy and strong." "May you be free from suffering." "May those you love be safe..." I pictured the residents and sincerely wished it.

I then moved on to cars passing by. (Even though it was only 7 am, it was 4th of July weekend and there was a "lot" of traffic.) I could barely keep up! "May you be happy, Toyota Prius driver." "May you be peaceful and at ease, girl in the Subaru." "May you be filled with loving kindness, Mercedes wagon guy..."

I somehow felt that they felt it, and who knows, maybe they did. The people I originally sent good wishes to were my students, my buds; they're people I like and respect. But I didn't know the others. Maybe their core values or political convictions were different than mine. Maybe they did stuff in their lives I would never agree with or understand. But by merely wishing them good will, I felt connected to them too.

And it elevated my mood.

What I was doing was incorporating metta, or loving-kindness, meditation into my ride. Metta is a meditation practice that, like mindfulness, is about cultivating a certain quality of mind. In the case of mindfulness, you cultivate meta-awareness toward the contents of consciousness. In the case of metta, you cultivate a sense of loving-kindness for all creatures by repeating wishes of well-being toward yourself and others. The metta practice classically begins with yourself, progresses to loved ones, to neutral people, to people you dislike, and then to all sentient beings, but I usually begin with loved ones and end with myself because I find it easier and more effective.

Since the Windmill Point ride, I've elevated the practice by incorporating it daily into my life. When a loved one disappoints me, I say, “may you be happy.” Instead of muttering "a**hole" when someone cuts me off, I say, "may you be healthy and strong." Instead of flailing my fists when politicians or people with opposing viewpoints get under my skin, I say, "may you be peaceful and at ease."

Try it! Whether you do it on your cushion, on the road, or on Twitter, it's a game-changer.