The Desirable Discomfort

The Desirable Discomfort

“Sometimes the only way out is through.”

Recently I reconnected with an old friend. My trail bike. I’d often glance at it hanging on a hook from a rafter in my shed, promising myself that one of these days I’m going to take it out for a ride.

Today was the day.

Not too far from home is a large state forest with miles of trails and unpaved fire access roads, a natural habitat for trail bikes to explore and wander. It had been years since my last ride here but it felt like I hadn’t missed a beat as I headed off on my adventure.

Heavy rains over the past few days made the dirt roads a bit muddy in places, but mud always makes trail bike riding more exciting, more primal. Getting filthy is part of the process and before too long mud was pretty much everywhere. I guess the kid in me has never outgrown his fascination with mud.

As I got deeper into the woods the uneven nature of the roads were partially flooded from the rains. As much as I enjoy mud, I would navigate my bike around the edges of these deep puddles adding a bit more intensity to the ride. But at one point, the road was completely flooded from side to side. Impassable.

Unless I wanted to get very wet.

With trees bordering both sides of the flooded road, I stopped and assessed my options. The “puddle” was a good 30 feet long, I had no idea how deep it was, and there was no dry alternative to get around what was in front of me.

“Sometimes the only way out is through.”

Sitting on my bike contemplating the words of Robert Frost, I knew that to get beyond what was in front of me I would need to go through what was in front of me. There really wasn’t any other Continue reading “The Desirable Discomfort”

Giving Birth To Yourself

Giving Birth To Yourself

Mom did the hard part, bringing me into this world. The love, the nurturing, the support and encouragement. I don’t know if she was the best mother ever, but to me she undoubtably was.

Mom would often tell me that the job of a mother is to give her child both roots and wings. To give them a foundational sense of who they are and to get them ready to fly and become what their hearts have told them to become. To build them up and to let them go.

On a late December solo hike a few months after her passing I found myself reflecting upon those wings she worked tirelessly to give me. More specifically, what have I done with them in the decades since leaving the nest she so lovingly built for me. Did I ever soar to the heights I was capable of reaching? Did she ever see the very best version of the son she gave birth to?

Those wings of mine were often weighed down by the heaviness of self-doubt and uncertainty Continue reading “Giving Birth To Yourself”

The Freedom Of Possibility

The Freedom Of Possibility

It was one of the stupidest decisions I’ve ever made.

Driving home from a late night out in the big city with a few friends. In front of me was a wide open stretch of highway which for some unknown reason inspired me to wonder just how fast my car could actually go. Fueled by a potentially lethal combination of teenage invincibility and alcohol, I pressed the pedal as hard as I could just to see exactly how fast my ’73 Toyota could go.

My experiment was cut short by a rather unsettling noise coming from the rear tires. Apparently the high rate of speed I was traveling at created a great deal of heat causing the retreads on my tires to separate from the tires, which I discovered after stopping to see if I could find where the noise was coming from. I had no idea that was even possible until I held a piece of a tire in my hand. After that experience, I had no intention of ever finding out exactly how fast that car could go.

Things certainly could have easily turned out much differently.

This far more mature and long-sober version of me often ponders a different sort of experiment. What would the outcome be if I pushed myself to my limits. Like, if I gave life all I had to give, Continue reading “The Freedom Of Possibility”

When All Of Me Matters

When All Of Me Matters

I’ve never had a spa day, but according to Cleo spa days are a vitally important part of her self care regimen. 

I don’t know who Cleo is. She was one of several people sharing their thoughts on a podcast talking about how they like to show themselves a little love and attention. We all deserve a little pampering now and again, don’t we?

I’ve never been much into pampering. My way of showing myself a little love was showing myself a little tough love, of me reminding me why I didn’t deserve any pampering. It was a narrative I learned in my youth and continued to perpetuate as an adult. 

I got quite good at it as an adult.

It was one particularly brutal tough love “self care” session, though, which profoundly changed how I would care for myself going forward. Surprisingly, I asked myself why I was being so cruel to myself. Why was I so relentless in beating myself down for failing to live up to the unrealistic Continue reading “When All Of Me Matters”

When The Truth Won’t Leave You Alone

When The Truth Won’t Leave You Alone

Sometimes I’m reminded that I shouldn’t quit my day job.

The ceiling looked great. It hadn’t been painted in many years and until I rolled on the fresh coat of paint I didn’t realize how dingy and dull the ceiling had become. Painting the ceiling was the final step of a weekend project which took far more weekends to complete than I expected. But it was done.

Until it wasn’t.

A previous “weekend project” involved replacing some of the rotting trim boards that were original to the house. Apparently while fixing the trim boards I had unknowingly dislodged a few shingles in the process. A brief but intense wind-driven rain passed through our area and, like water always does, the water found its way through those dislodged shingles and into the house staining my freshly painted living room ceiling.

As a handyman homeowner I’ve come to appreciated the persistent nature of water. If there is a way for water to get into a space it always seems to find a way to do so. Water is quite good at getting my attention.

And so is the Truth.

The Truth, as in the acceptance of the reality of certain situations I’ve gotten quite good at repressing.

Like water, the Truth is very persistent. Like water, it’s also quite good at getting my attention, often showing up in the forms of frustration and disappointment, of unwanted outcomes and unmet expectations, often prompting me to confront those repressed realities no matter how Continue reading “When The Truth Won’t Leave You Alone”

The Perfect Place To Be Annoyed

The Perfect Place To Be Annoyed

There are days when even I don’t like being around me.

Today is one of those days.

It’s been a busy stretch of late. Personal and professional obligations have outpaced my capacity to properly fuel my ability to take care of them. Quality sleep and quality nutrition have been the collateral damage in my attempt to balance all that needs to be balanced.

I’m annoyed, easily agitated, a bit overwhelmed, and I don’t see any upcoming breaks in the schedule where I’ll be able to catch my breath.

I’m not good at being miserable.

But here I am, trying not to splatter my misery upon those around me.

For me, one of the best parts about being miserable is being able to step back and notice that I Continue reading “The Perfect Place To Be Annoyed”

The Willingness To Ask

The Willingness To Ask

Spending $72.00 on M&M’s was much easier than I thought it would be.

I’m in New York City with the family, Times Square. And in Times Square is a huge retail store dedicated to just one thing. 

M&M’s.

On three floor with over 25,000 square feet of space, for me the highlight of visiting is always the Wall Of Chocolate, a 50 foot wide 2-stories tall collection of 74 tubes filled with every M&M imaginable. Grab a plastic bag, place it under the tube, open the chute, and the color of your choice drops into your bag. Then off to the next color. And then the next color.

The fun adds up.

And at $17.00 per pound, so does the cost.

Standing in the checkout line I had no idea how much I had spent, but from the weight of the bag I knew it would be steep. It was a fun experience, the kids were quite happy, and it’s hard to assign a dollar value to that.

The cashier was quite engaging, and we had a nice conversation while she weighed and scanned each of the bags we’d filled. “$71.85 is your total.” As I handed my card over for payment, I jokingly suggested I should have asked for a “friends and family” discount based upon the jovial nature of our conversation. Apparently she thought that was a good idea, and to my surprise, I was given 30% off my total.

I really wasn’t expecting a discount. But in asking, even jokingly, I did receive one.

If you don’t ask the answer is always no.

Asking can be rather uncomfortable at times. Especially when we are asking ourselves some uncomfortable questions. About our life. About what we want for our life. About where we are in life in relation to what we want in our life.

Often it’s just easier to take what’s in front of us and to take what life has given us and be on our way. Avoiding any introspective questions means we don’t need to deal with their potential discomfort. In time, though, such avoidance creates its own inevitable discomfort as you eventually acknowledge the gap between where you are and where you want to be.

Much of our willingness to accept less than we want for ourselves is an underlying mindset that we may believe we are somehow unworthy of receiving all that is ours to receive. And if we don’t feel we are worthy of it, we certainly won’t be asking for it. In accepting this premise, we will perpetuate our existing life experience creating additional evidence we will use to support this premise of unworthiness. Continue reading “The Willingness To Ask”

Sometimes You Need To Be Reminded What You’re Fighting For

Sometimes You Need To Be Reminded What You’re Fighting For

It can appear subtle, even innocuous. Yet to the recipient the impact of their words and actions can profoundly influence the direction of a life.

Life can lull us into settling in, where making peace with the less-than-desirable situations is preferred to the isolation of standing your ground and honoring the vision and the intention of the life you’ve told yourself you want to create. There is a level of comfort in surrendering and accepting, until you’re eventually made uncomfortable as you’re reminded of the price you’ve paid for your emotional appeasement.

For those willing to move forward with an intentional life, those intentions are often tested in order to evaluate just how committed you actually are. The Universe knows that talk is indeed very cheap. It’s quite easy to espouse your intentions, but it’s a whole different story if you’re Continue reading “Sometimes You Need To Be Reminded What You’re Fighting For”

The Only Flaw Is Thinking That You’re Flawed

The Only Flaw Is Thinking That You’re Flawed

It was one of those oversized envelopes stuffed in the mail box. It looked pretty important, unlike most of the things I find stuffed in my mail box.

The manufacturer of my car was notifying me of a recall, something to do with some part of the fuel pump which needed to be replaced. When I called to schedule the service appointment, I was assured this was no big deal. Anthony explained there was some sort of design flaw impacting the original fuel pumps but the new ones are ready to install.

Flaws. In automobiles they’ve figured out how to correct them when the performance of the vehicle isn’t meeting certain standards. In humans, though, flaws are a bit of a different story.

It’s all about the story. 

The story we tell ourselves about ourselves.

At some point in our lives we start to accept certain things about ourselves. And we’re quite good of identifying and accepting the not so good stuff we tell ourselves about ourselves. Flaws, we call them. 

There is a certain peace in accepting your flaws. You’re no longer fighting against yourself. Your acceptance of these limitations and shortcomings act as some sort of loving and Continue reading “The Only Flaw Is Thinking That You’re Flawed”

When You Run Your Own Race The Trophy Is Your Life

When You Run Your Own Race The Trophy Is Your Life

Seeing that number brought back the pain of that day.

I had three hours to finish and I wasn’t quite sure if I would. I came out of the final turn of my first half marathon and with one eye on the finish line and the other on the clock I knew it was going to be close. 

It was.

I made it.

And it hurt.

Going through a box of papers this week I found the race bib I had worn on that day. Number 156. It was a race I wish I had trained a bit differently for, but at age 59 I had officially completed the 13.1 mile distance the half marathon demanded of me. Dehydrated, sore, and legs like Jell-O, crossing that finish line was a joyful kind of pain I proudly earned every ounce of.

Coming in almost dead last in a field of 1,500 runners doesn’t sound very glorious but it was one of the greatest moments of my life. By the time I got to the finish line there were no balloons or Continue reading “When You Run Your Own Race The Trophy Is Your Life”