the weather man

I have a friend who wants to be a weather man when he grows up.
he is, of course, already quite grown, being in his mid-forties. but there are two things going on here: first, our belief that we're never quite grown up, and second, that we all have fantasy careers.
let me tackle the first, first.
age is just a number, certainly not a behavior pattern. and what I've learned over the last twenty years or so is that "old" keeps moving further and further away from where I currently am. in my twenties, I thought women over forty should never wear shorts. yes, I did. now, thankfully, I think that women can and should wear shorts if and whenever they choose. even at eighty. or ninety. or one hundred and five.
but I still feel young. I can't remember what it was like to be the me of twenty-plus years ago, but I know it was different in more ways than just my thoughts about women and shorts. I know I felt privileged, full of that invincibility of youth. I felt somewhat superior to everyone older than me, just because I had fewer years in.
now I see the fallacy, and just appreciate where I am. as I appreciate where everyone is, whether they are chronologically younger than me or older. youth is great; the wisdom of having lived longer is great as well. in fact, every stage of life is full of wonder and amazing experiences, growth and the opportunity to increase our personal strengths.
I don't want to be twenty-something again, but I surely don't feel a handful of years away from the mid-century mark, either. I suppose I'll just keep being thankful that many others have paved a beautiful path for me to follow.

now, for career choices when we grow up. I've written before about my fantasy career: the backup singer. and my friend wants to be a weather man. my kid's dad wants to teach middle school math. I know someone else who wants to move to taos and become an artist.
are we meant to reach these paths? or are they our carrots, things that keep us moving forward, eager, intrigued? for some of us they might just tickle our souls, but for others, they move our deepest selves to pure joy.
I don't truly believe that I will sing backup for a band one day. but I love holding that dream somewhere in my heart. I don't even think I mind that it just stays there. it's enough to just hold it, to know that the idea of it fills me with passion and joy.
will my friend ever become a weather man? I don't know. he speaks of it, jokes about it, follows the weather, knows more than I'll ever know about thermals and fronts and pressure systems. but will he take that leap, someday? I can't know. and perhaps, neither can he.

and now for just one little cycling-related observation: today was a yoga day. and I missed my cycling. for I've discovered that my morning rides give me two gifts: some level of peace, and a sense of accomplishment.
yoga works well for the peace, but it's just not the same for me as far as accomplishment goes. my beloved miguel no longer teaches class, so I am in a period of adjustment, learning to work with new teachers. the focus is different, and I am bending in new ways both literally and figuratively. therefore, I don't feel a very strong sense of accomplishment. I end class feeling like I made it, I did okay, and I guess I just have a long way to go.
which is perhaps the way I felt earlier on in my riding.
and perhaps the way we all feel sometimes in life.

but I'm pretty sure tomorrow morning will find me on my bike, in the dark, earning my peace and sense of accomplishment.

and, perhaps, thinking about my carrot.