Basic Space

If you claim to be a real friend then be real in your soul. If you claim to be fake then be an enemy instead-

I was in my early 30′s when we first met. This particular marathon was in a beautiful and exotic part of war-torn Baghdad, Iraq. I did not like it from the start and it only got worse from there

I nuzzled my way onto the starting line cocky, arrogant, and self-centered. I couldn’t stand the thought of having to run through the pack, outlasting the early sprinters and generally weaving through the pedestrians. Much to my dismay, I faded back 10 miles into this scorching hot race. This was just another marathon, but I was the same person.

And there I was at the next big race in Bagram Airfield, Afghanistan. The same person I was a year earlier followed me to this race as well

It finally dawned on me, blonde hair and all, that it was I, who needed to change or else I would be my own worst enemy for the rest of my life. As I began to walk the path of meaningful change in my life, I came to realize my poor marathon performances were a metaphor for the way my life works. I can cast blame and run away from poor performances, although they will keep returning until I finally face them, and owe up to them.

Over the past three years of blogging. I tried at times, and failed more often than I like, to share with you, thinking out-loud, why these particular traits of me bother me so much.

Daily Meditation:

Once I set out to change myself all those years ago, I started to notice that the “old” me doesn’t come around as much anymore. When these feelings do arise out of nowhere? I tap deeper into my inner compassion and gratitude … Noticing that in some ways, I have been trying to help myself all along, I was just to cockyarrogant, and self-centered to notice.

CultFit Path


That Reminds Me

Just imagine yourself seated on a shadowy terrace,
And beside you is a girl who stirs you more strangely than an
heiress,
It is a summer evening at its most superb,
And the moonlight reminds you that To Love is an active verb.
And your hand clasps hers, which rests there without shrinking,
And after a silence fraught with romance you ask her what she is
thinking,
And she starts and returns from the moon-washed distances to the
shadowy veranda,
And says, Oh I was wondering how many bamboo shoots a day it
takes to feed a baby Giant Panda.
Or you stand with her on a hilltop and gaze on a winter sunset,
And everything is as starkly beautiful as a page from Sigrid Undset,
And your arm goes round her waist and you make an avowal
which for masterfully marshaled emotional content might have
been a page of Ouida’s or Thackeray’s,
And after a silence fraught with romance she says, I forgot to or-
der the limes for the Daiquiris.
Or in a twilight drawing room you have just asked the most mo-
mentous of questions,
And after a silence fraught with romance she says, I think this
little table would look better where that little table is, but
then where would that little table go, have you any sugges-
tions?
And that’s the way they go around hitting below our belts;
It isn’t that nothing is sacred to them, it’s just that at the Sacred
Moment they are always thinking of something else.

- Ogden Nash

CultFit Chain


: Sunset :

When he worked, he really worked. But when he played, he really PLAYED-

What would you love to find time for, that you have been putting off for far too long? For me personally … My answer is nighttime Gravel Rides!

 

Daily Meditation:

No matter what your current limitations may be and no matter how far away you might be from your dreams, you can be purposeful in how you spend and enjoy your time. Even if it’s just one Saturday evening that you’re able to set aside for yourself, and even if this one evening is simply spent cycling along moon light lit gravel roads in Nebraska  This is when my thoughts and actions connect.

Thank you Scott and Pell for organizing such a wonderful event!

GONG Ride


Liberation : Front :

If you’ve got nothing to dance about, find a reason to sing-

There are an infinite amount of wellness, exercise, health, fitness, yoga and “whatever” blogs, websites and apps that offer endless advice opportunities to improve ourselves, although until we learn how to love our true selves, and nurture these fragile new shoots? It’s unlikely we’ll find the love we seek. When we approach our search for self-love as an intimate journey, and not as a Strava race against time, a punishing series of new workouts or some extreme mud run, everything changes.

In the last five years of seeking a relationship with myself (you read that correctly – some dude learning to love himself … Not a cool thing to admit now isn’t it?), I have spent an incalculable amount of hours looking for love in places that lacked love: Battering my body early every morning in the gym and trail running until exhaustion before bed, using “extreme” and “trendy” training methods I read about online that had little to do with self-love. Concealing all traces of my unseemly need to be someone who I was not I was endlessly engrossed seeking to be the best. However, as it turns out, this path led me a life of pain and ruin.

As much as we are led to believe that finding self-love and accepting who we really are is all about maxing out each and every rep, improving our appearance in yoga class, or beating every goddamn person in this marathon … It’s ultimately our inner spirit that lets us find and keep real, lasting love. When we learn to bring our inner spirit into the ways we search for self-love? This is when the real changes begin to happen in our lives.

Daily Meditation:

Through exploring and finding our own deeper insights, we transform and deepen our search for self-love … I have finally come to believe that these moments of self-reflection move us more quickly to finding self-love than anything else we will read about today.

Thank you Claudia for the recent award and for inspiring me to finally publish this post.

CultFit Self


Midsummer Night

Not there to see midsummer’s midnight rose
open and bloom, me,
or there when the river dressed in turquoise
under the moon, you;
not there when stones softened, opened, showed
the fossils they held
or there, us, when the dark sky fell to the earth
to gather its smell.

Not there when a strange bird sang on a branch
over our heads, you
and me, or there when a starlit fruit ripened
itself on a tree.
Not there to lie on the grass of our graves, both,
alive alive oh,
or there for Shakespeare’s shooting star,
or for who we are,

but elsewhere, far. Not there for the magic hour
when time becomes love
or there for light’s pale hand to slip, slender,
from darkness’s glove.
Not there when our young ghosts called to us
from the other side
or there where the heron’s rags were a silver gown,
by grace of the light.

Not there to be right, to find our souls, we,
dropped silks on the ground,
or there to be found again by ourselves, you, me,
mirrored in water.
Not there to see constellations spell themselves on the sky
and black rhyme with white
or there to see petals fold on a rose like a kiss
on midsummer night.

- Carol Ann Duffy

CultFit Night