Wind Bell over the Climb

—after Case 36: Seijo and Her Soul Separated

Let me explain: there were two of me on this ride.

One of me was racing imaginary Giro contenders up the Valsassina valley, racking PRs.
The other? Floating somewhere near Dervio, on the lake, contemplating cloud shapes and the meaning of thigh pain.

It’s not unusual. Sometimes I go full Seijo—body climbing, soul elsewhere. In Zen, that’s a koan. In cycling, it’s just a long few hours on the bike.

Seijo and Her Soul Separated is case 35 of the Mumonkan. It explores the seeming split between body and mind, or action and intention. It challenges us to consider what it means to be whole. In practice, it points toward integration—of emotion and reason, the visible and the invisible, striving and stillness.

I left Mandello at 6:29 AM (don’t ask why the odd time; Strava did it), thinking: “Today, I conquer the Valsassina loop.”
PR on Tartavalle? ✔️
PR on Colle Balisio Nord? ✔️
PR on “dh laorca madness”? (Yes, real name.) ✔️✔️

But while my legs were putting in 120 watts of valiant effort, my soul was… unsure.
Do I care about KOMs or cowbells?
Victory or a croissant?

Halfway through, I started narrating my ride like a Zen master who accidentally became a cycling coach:

“When the rider splits in two,
one drinks electrolytes,
the other wonders where the soul went.”

At the summit, I stopped; of course we are never split, there is no soul, there is no body. One thing. Where has the soul gone? Always here, part of the one big universe. What splits things is the mind, the reality is only one and we are it.

Silence. Wind. A distant bell—maybe a cow, maybe a church, maybe just my saddlebag zipper slapping the frame or a wind bell.

Sweaty-me and metaphysical-me, no, one thing, nothing moves, nothing stays still. 

80 kilometres and over 900 meters of climbing; one breath, one pedal stroke, one smile.