It was my father taught my mother
how to dance.
I never knew that.
I thought it was the other way.
Ballroom was their style,
a graceful twirling,
curved arms and fancy footwork,
a green-eyed radio.
There is always more than you know.
There are always boxes
put away in the cellar,
worn shoes and cherished pictures,
notes you find later,
sheet music you can’t play.
A woman came on Wednesdays
with tapes of waltzes.
She tried to make him shuffle
around the floor with her.
She said it would be good for him.
He didn’t want to.
The ego relies on the familiar. It is reluctant to experience the unknown, which is they very essence of life-
We cultivate a sense of identity from what we do, and when a habit bolsters a positive sense of identity, it’s immensely powerful. Over time, the pure joy of this “habit” fades away into the ether, and what are left with? Race bibs. medals, memories and for me personally – Nothing. This past weekend after much thought, I have arrived at a point in my life where I need to stop pursuing fleeting dreams, choosing instead to do something meaningful with my free time – other than racing and competing. Its time to focus on other areas in my life …
Over the course of the next six weeks I will be attending the Citizens’ Academy for Omaha’s Future and I would genuinely love to have you along for the ride! In essence, I’m trading race bibs and medals to hang in the garage, for the chance to create meaningful change in our community.
Thank you once again for your continued support as I walk a path to discovering my true self.
Some people grumble that roses have thorns; I am grateful that thorns have roses-
Thank you for your continued support of my humble blog-o-thing! Its your kindness, passion and well – being pretty darn inspiring folks, that keeps me rolling along. Take care and be well!
It’s discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit-
Have you ever stopped at a “stop walk” when there’s no traffic? Waiting patiently for the signal to indicate its safe to cross the street, when out of seemingly nowhere, another almond chai tea latte sporting pedestrian comes along and proceeds to saunter on through? Do you lament, “I’m a moron for waiting!” Or do you think out-loud, “Try not to get run over you jack ass!” These benign and tedious social interactions, offer us a glimpse into our inner “moral police,” and how we spend more time defending our own egos than actually enjoying this inspiring moment in time.
I don’t believe we are abandoning morals in our society as a whole. We still lean heavily on moral arguments to justify our daily behavior (topic for another day … ), although we tend to prop ourselves up on “morals” more randomly, pulling out whatever moral code serves our interests best in any given situation. So how do we begin to tie in morality, which is a painfully tedious and a woefully self-serving discussion. With mindfulness, harmony and surrendering to the moment? Or, simply being?
What ever happened to here-and-now relational responsiveness in our society? Actions that are open-hearted, sympathetic, and not embedded in rigid ideas of the self, and our “personal interest?” Helping the elderly to cross a street or carrying their groceries to the car? Holding a random door open for someone? Waiting at a cross walk, and sharing a smile with the driver, before you both carry on? Its amazing what we can achieve as a society when people go out of their way to help one another with no thought of self-advantage.
Instead of being propelled by an outside force – Morality - Ego – Self Advantage … Allow your heart and spirit to propel you gently this morning.
There are some questions that shouldn’t be asked until a person is mature enough to appreciate the answers-
We are made up of many “things,” so are our handy gadgets, fancy cars, spiffy shoes, colorful yoga mats and ridiculously expensive bikes – A bunch of cells and molecules blended craftily together. If there’s a major distinction to be pointed out between us and these cherished inanimate objects, it’s that we tactile beings are blessed with the ability to feel our emotions and to communicate them to others. Or do we?!?
While we have the ability to express our emotions to others, sometimes – most of the time, we don’t always do it when we desperately need to. It’s important to pause and ask why every once in a while. As you may have noticed in my recent posts, I have been asking myself “why” quite a bit of late. I do so because we live in social media/hyper connected world that tells us, don’t feel upset,” or don’t feel sad, don’t worry, and to “Be brave and stand tall” when adversity graces our lives. It’s also important to remember that the world we live in has a double-edge sword, waiting patiently to chop our heads off when our emotions sway the opposite direction, when we boast and brag about a new gadget, personal best and buying a new bike. The net result of all of “this,” is one sad but brutally true underlying message – Stop being and don’t feel anything.
My posts of late have been painfully tedious for one important reason: I’m starting to make a habit of honoring myself and you, each and every day. One last question before we part ways this morning: Before you click “publish, “like” or post anything online … Is there a moment where you think about the ramifications of your action(s), a moment where you stop being and fail to feel anything?!?
You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life-
While cleaning the garage this past weekend, I came across a handful of Enduro – Mountain Bike race medals and tattered bibs from the nearly 4 years I spent living in the United Kingdom. I was preparing to pitch them in the bin outside when curiosity overcame me, I sat down on the warm west-facing front porch and started to look through them. On these worn and faded relics, I found a record of a life that seemed so impossibly exciting to me that I could hardly believe it had once been mine.
With my Son carelessly riding his bike with some neighborhood mates, I sat there, coffee in hand and reminisced about my life competing in England. When I meet fellow cyclist at a local coffee shop early on a Sunday morning, a recent swap meet or my favourite MTB trail head, they invariably inquire why I don’t compete at the same level now. The “thing” is, during nearly all of my years there, my heart longed to be somewhere else. It seems incredible when I think about it now, watching my Son creating long fluid skid marks in the road, when I’m holding objects such as this Thetford Forest MTB Racing Series podium medal, serves only to remind me of the seemingly rare and blessed glimpse of my days spent there.
I tossed the medals and bibs in the trash bin and placed my stained streaked coffee mug on top, sealing the contents inside. Hooked our now warm and cozy beagle up to his leash, grabbed a sweatshirt from inside the garage door, and proceed to tear up the now quiet neighborhood with my Son.
Only the hand that erases can write the true thing-
Do you want to “train” with a riding partner who is hesitant to think that things will work themselves out fine and dandy further down the road? Or do you want to practice next to a Pollyannaish yoga princess who never, ever – never ever thinks that anything could go wrong during yoga class – Until it does, chipped nail polish and all? Have you noticed of late this “spiritual presence” wafting in the air, pressure of having to be positive, jovial, and enthusiastic every stinking moment of the day?!? Even my Son asked me the other morning if I was feeling excited about rebuilding a Cannondale Headshok that exploded on me recently. “What was that little dude?” I said, “You must be kidding.” He paused, looked into my furrowed eyes and simply laughed. He knew he was trying to manipulate me into feeling “something” I was not at the moment, or he wanted to watch Star Wars Rebels?!?. Anyways, he could not help himself. He just had to give this leaky, broken down fork, a fork that was going to bother me for the rest of the mountain bike racing season, a positive spin.
What’s lost in our “spiritual presence” conquest, constantly needing to be coaxed and persuaded into balance - Is perspective. What is truly lost, is the idea to question the way we experience ourselves and others before we even acknowledge these negative thought(s) or event(s). True spiritual practice kindly offers us perspective. Once we tap into who we truly are, we look at the particular, nuanced daily experiences with wisdom and a gentle heart. We don’t have to take “life” so seriously anymore. Just looking at our inner thoughts and feelings from the perspective of – Being - causes us to find peace and smile. A deeply rooted spiritual practice allows us to observe, allowing the wonders of life to unfold before our very eyes – naturally.
Kids and broken bike parts are wonderful when it comes to offering a new perspective on this “thing” called life.