Michael Banovsky

Lights and lanes, ticking by. Thoughts and dreams walking by. Body at ease, mind at the ready. Driving…

So much of life in the West is devoted to the pursuit of wealth and status, with personal happiness seemingly related to both but really a different idea altogether. I say idea because although 10,000 can pack a comedy theatre and enjoy a few laughs, true happiness is personal and exclusive to that person.

For me, it’s motion without destination. Despite the backlash I get for saying that I both enjoy driving and cycle to work, it’s not about mode of transport. What I’m on about here is keeping clean your mental health.

What does it for me is the motion. The fact I have control over an object that can move me far faster through the world than I am capable is an absolute rush. It never gets old. Thinking ahead becomes a necessity, and adding chaos to the road means that I have to start flowing in relation to those around me.

When movement consumes my thoughts, my heart slows. My fingers and toes rest. It’s like standing in the shower with warm water running over my face. At. Ease.

I’m saying: find what puts you at ease. What takes you away from life. What allows you to disconnect without losing yourself in the process.

Note: Something I wrote back in 2009.

A deep breath won’t help shaking, or goosebumps. Depression, self-loathing, runaway thoughts, too, aren’t curable; not from breathing, at least.

Her nostrils gathered, embraced, and slid the night air into her chest. It took her at least ten steps to overcome the moment, feel her winter-wreaked fingers, and slide her exposed hands inside wool pockets. For the first time in years, she’s not using his.

It’s strange to use pockets that aren’t yours. Like borrowing a space closer to but still separate from someone. Somehow they’re always warmer than your own. She could use the heat. She’s full of motion, with feet are soaked in winter.

Cold.

Time and mind race forward, her steps still laboured. Left, right, just get to the car. Close the door. Hands on the wheel, out comes the first shred of emotion. Hands still cold, they wipe nothing but a chill onto her face.

Fuck his pockets, she wants him.

A deep breath doesn’t help shaking, or goosebumps. It’s over. She exhales with breath smothered in pain; like smoke from a house with people still trapped inside.

It’s freezing.

Red, brown, orange, yellow, blue, green is the order in which I eat M&Ms. I’m not sure why. It just happens that way.

It may seem absurd, but there are far stranger things in the world worthy of your interest.

Child soldiers. Malaria. The widening gap between rich and poor. Tar sands. Religious fundamentalism. Etc.

The way I eat M&Ms, like a thousand other things you’ll experience today, aren’t important.

Do you live by making candy your business, or do you have more important things to do?

I was fighting a headwind on the way to work yesterday. It reminded me of the first time I experienced blustery weather on the way into work. It was horrible.

I was on my heavy Batavus city bicycle, loaded down with a laptop, change of clothes, lunch, and things for work. The whole ensemble—including me, obviously—weighed close to 300 lbs, I’m sure. 

No matter what gear I was in, no matter how much I tried to crouch, I couldn’t make the journey any easier on myself.

It’s been a solid year of commuting nearly every day by bicycle along Lake Ontario, and my approach is completely different now.

Instead of the heavy Batavus, I take instead a nimble, sporty single speed bike. Instead of a heavy pack, I take only the essentials. No change of clothes, no laptop, no papers for work.

But the biggest change is how I ride. I now look straight ahead, into the wind, instead of looking down. I don’t fight it; I pick a constant speed and look to where I’m going.

I don’t try to out-accelerate any cyclists, I just try to maintain a comfortable, constant speed.

What I’m saying is that when you encounter resistance, learn what you can compensate for and what you’ll have to accept. Never stop moving forward, even if you’re going a little more slowly initially.

Turns out that constant, deliberate actions usually give the best results.

I wasn’t even breaking a sweat, which is better than the mess I arrived in a year ago.

I used to make mix tapes all the time. I’d still do it, if it wasn’t for DRM and the gigantic pain in the ass music sharing has become.

What I love about custom playlists is the possibility of making the listener feel something they wouldn’t necessarily feel.

I love art and writing for the same reason. They’re quick and easy ways to have people consider a different point of view. 

Video mashups, .gifs, Tumblr, and many Twitter feeds are being used in the same way. When the cost of offering people a perspective is lower than it ever has been, why not choose to express yourself?

I’d like to hope that’s why marketers are finding their jobs increasingly difficult: personal expression is taking the place of purchase expression.