Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them-
As any working parent knows, sometimes you have to think creatively to juggle work, partaking in outside activities and keeping your child engaged and out of trouble. Or am I trying to stay engaged and out of trouble?!? Anyways … Last Fall during cyclocross season I could not find a sitter on a regular basis, Grandma was busy doing grandma things and letting my 8-year old son stay at home alone is not an option . So I decided to take him along with me.
There he sat on the swings, flanked by a few new friends he instantly befriended. I was proud of him playing nicely pushing the merry-go-round when it was his turn; then hopping aboard to take in the fun. As he settled into playing carefree, I started to warm up and get ready for the race, and before too long I was comfortably in my single speed cyclocross racing groove.
That is, until about ten minutes after the call to the starting line, when my son suddenly blurted out from the top of the slide castle (by top – I mean the very top, like on the rooftop top). It wasn’t a cute, that little boy is adorable shout mind you. It was one of those incredibly eager, excited, this kid must be crazy or whatever shouts you expect a rabid sports fan to let loose during the heat of battle. Every set of eyes within a half mile immediately focused on him, perched gallantly high above, Star Wars t-shirt, Yankees hat and all … My heart immediately went silent on the backside of the course. I didn’t know what he was saying, but as parents we know in an instant when our kids are the center of attention! Making my way back to the start, I could make out that his eyes were glowing wide with delight, he had a huge smile on his innocent face and I could finally make out what he was shouting:
“Go get em’ Dad! Gears are for chumps and soccer moms!”
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Daily Meditation-
I could hear the crowd laughing now and starting to join in with my little dude, supporting their rider on this cool October morning in a more boisterous – colorful way. In this magical moment, somewhere between trudging through a sand pit and jumping over obstacles, everyone in attendance understood a 8 year old’s perspective on not taking life too seriously and having fun.
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I would personally like to take a moment to thank the following kind and passionate folks for making the below schedule possible for me: Omaha Bicycle Co. and Endless Bike Company – Thank you!!!
Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself-
What are we seeking when we engage in self-reflection along our path to discovering our true authentic self? I asked myself this question during a recent cycling event, one where I had quite a bit of time to think about “things” in life.
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Stumbling upon my path to discovering my authentic self has been riddled by a myriad of close calls, disappointments, pain and yes: Suffering. Years of engaging in destructive behavior seemingly crushed me as a person and still haunt me, even as I proof read this post.
Everywhere I sought help and refuge, I was continually told the way to discover “who we really are” is to simply scrape away all the dreck that has been heaped upon ourselves over the years. Sounds easy enough right?!? If life were only as easy as reading a $5.99 self-help e-book or a top 10 list to discover your true self blog post. The more self-help advice and guidance I marinated in, the more I began to notice how self involved I was becoming. I gradually became concerned only with what affected me or only with that which is useful to, or focused primarily on myself. I started to make every day life “things” that were not about me, about me, and I became blind to world unfolding around me … The more I looked inward, the more I tuned out. I stopped living life.
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Each one of us has a self that is beautiful, flawed and unique. Each one of us are blessed with a complicated set of life experiences that no one else has. Our lives are an accumulation of experiences – both good, bad and the ugly. We are amazing – dynamic creatures, and we are continually a work in progress!
Daily Meditation:
These experiences, however, are the very “things” that the searching to reveal our true authentic in a book or whatever, toss to the side as unimportant or distracting. My path to an authentic self, starts with acknowledging my woeful self-deception, that I am my own worst enemy and bringing my Son along to a few cyclocross races last season helped to shed light on what matters the most to me in life (more on this next week).
I hope each of you reading today have an amazing weekend, take care and be well!
The summer ends, and it is time
To face another way. Our theme
Reversed, we harvest the last row
To store against the cold, undo
The garden that will be undone.
We grieve under the weakened sun
To see all earth’s green fountains dried,
And fallen all the works of light.
You do not speak, and I regret
This downfall of the good we sought
As though the fault were mine. I bring
The plow to turn the shattering
Leaves and bent stems into the dark,
From which they may return. At work,
I see you leaving our bright land,
The last cut flowers in your hand.
Tomorrow I ask you to support the women that dare to ride! The inaugural Global Solidarity Ridetakes place tomorrow and I simply cannot express how important this ride is to me. Shannon Galpin of Mountain2Mountain is doing amazing work bringing the simple joy of spinning along on a bicycle to the women of Afghanistan.
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Daily Meditation:
Before the weekend begins, I personally would like to – Thank You– for your continued support of my your little blog-o-thing! Be well this weekend and please take care!
*Please join me this coming Sunday in Omaha for the annual Tour de Garden Omaha! I’ll even pick up the first coffee or tea for you – My treat!*
I sat on the lawn watching the half-hearted moon rise,
The gnats orbiting the peach pit that I spat out
When the sweetness was gone. I was twenty,
Wet behind the ears from my car wash job,
And suddenly rising to my feet when I saw in early evening
A cloud roll over a section of stars.
It was boiling, a cloud
Churning in one place and washing those three or four stars.
Excited, I lay back down,
My stomach a valley, my arms twined with new rope,
My hair a youthful black. I called my mother and stepfather,
And said something amazing was happening up there.
They shaded their eyes from the porch light.
They looked and looked before my mom turned
The garden hose onto a rosebush and my stepfather scolded the cat
To get the hell off the car. The old man grumbled
About missing something on TV,
The old lady made a face
When mud splashed her slippers. How you bother,
She said for the last time, the screen door closing like a sigh.
I turned off the porch light, undid my shoes.
The cloud boiled over those stars until it was burned by their icy fire.
The night was now clear. The wind brought me a scent
Of a place where I would go alone,
Then find others, all barefoot.
In time, each of us would boil clouds
And strike our childhood houses
With lightning.
CultFit 