Freedom to choose. Privileged to live in a world with so much opportunity. Unlimited options. I could do this. Or I could do that. So many choices. Overwhelmed. So many possibilities. What should I do? No one can really tell us the answer, because there is no single answer. But what if this isn’t really the most important question? What if I started asking HOW instead of WHAT? What if the HOW I do whatever I am doing is the most important question? Being present. Mindful. Fully in this moment. The only thing that is real. Presence means that you truly understand why you’re doing what you’re doing. And once you truly understand why, if it doesn’t align with your true self, you likely won’t want to do it. Ambition dissolves. You don’t long to be somewhere or someone different. You simply long to be. One with what is. One with this moment. Which is certainly not a bad thing. In reality, it is everything, the only thing. Should I go for a ride or not? Ride or rest, both are essential. The key is in doing each correctly. Full immersion. Full commitment. Full attention. Here and now. A conscious meditation. Stop wasting so much time trying to figure out WHAT you should be doing. Simply be present doing whatever it is that you are doing right now. That alone will provide the answer for WHAT. It’s about finding your way in all directions. It’s about doing the right things by doing things right.
Friday, August 21, 2020
I was a busy kid with tons of energy to burn. Play was my release mechanism. Outside was my playground. Building. Exploring. Sports. Always trying many different new things. Honing my skills. Getting to know myself through recreation. No pressure. All in fun. Entertaining myself using creativity and imagination. Some of my best childhood memories are of me and my friends playing cops and robbers on our bikes and long winter afternoons playing pond hockey. All unsupervised. No agenda. Rules made up as we went. Trailblazers of sorts. I learned how to ride a bike on my own, by trial and error without instruction or guidance. No courses or coaches. We still made it work. Forced resourcefulness. Free play is quite rare nowadays. Nonexistent almost. Everything is so very structured, endlessly organized. Kids just need to show up and follow instructions. To be honest, proper skills development was never something that we really thought about back in the day. We were just having fun. Nothing else. Sometimes the worse thing that can happen to kids is that they happen to be very good at doing something that they really enjoy. Especially if it’s something that society puts a whole lot of importance on such as sports. Natural talent. It should never be wasted right? Once this potential is uncovered, the game or sport that they love suddenly becomes very serious. Training programs. Extra practices. High level coaching. Ultra competitive. Structure. Discipline. At what point does more become less? At what point do we start obliterating the fun?
Tuesday, August 18, 2020
Withered marsh lakes. Golden blond sun-baked fields. Dusty dehydrated trails. Thin dirt soot, stirred up as I roll through it. Light, icing sugar consistency, powder soil airbrushed onto my exposed sweaty skin. Planning rides around water bottle refills. This summer has been hot. Stinking hot. And dry. Driest in the last 40 years apparently. Funny thing is that I remember that summer also. 1980. The year that I got my Honda XR 75 dirt bike. The summer that we weren’t allowed in the woods for a few weeks. I vividly remember it because it was awesome. Just like this summer. I really don’t mind riding in the midday heat. I love it actually. No extra layers of clothing. A light breeze generated by my forward pedaling movement. So simple. So pure. So loose. So unrestricted. Summer’s climax. Long days and long nights. There is no doubt that my body and mind thrive this time of the year. A certain ease setting in. Sunshine vitality. More bike time. Riding regularly is certainly a huge wellness contributor that fuels my inner dog days fire. Not too much. Not too little. Five, maybe six ride days per week is enough. Not too fast. Not too slow. Fast enough to get my blood flowing. Slow enough that my brain still isn’t oxygen deprived. Centered. This summertime pace feels so natural to me. It just feels so right.