goals

Day planners became a big thing about 20 years ago. at that point in my life I was working for a large, soon-to-be national retailer, and they sent us through a management seminar based on organizing your life with a Personal Resource System. PRS. we were given these beautiful leather planners, replete with dividers and sections and page after page that we were to fill out and use to keep track of every aspect of our lives.
I write this with tongue in cheek, and probably sound derisive, but that seminar provided one of those pivotal life moments for me.
goal setting was the hot thing in management those days, and we were asked to set goals for each of 7 aspects of our lives: work, financial, physical, emotional, family, social, and spiritual. I found that I could do this relatively easily for 6 of the categories.
but the remaining category challenged me. I struggled to harmonize where I was currently with what my true goal was: they did not seem to mesh. and of all things, that category was work.
this led to enlightenment. I obviously needed to rethink my career, and possibly move toward a path that was a better fit for who I was.

I believe in setting goals, and striving to reach them.
but I don't always write them down, and I find that I can even be relatively wimpy about them. it's as though I fear committing to them because . . . why?
this is the truth, as far as I can figure out: I am afraid that I won't reach them, and then I'll be devastated.
and never try again.

geez, I don't seem to have much faith in myself, do I?
I do know better. I won't give up, just because I don't reach a goal. but I am more encouraged by the times I hope for a good outcome and receive one, than by shooting a little too high and missing. the trick, I suppose, is in learning how to set goals that are perfectly aligned with the slightest stretch in your abilities.

sometimes what I truly desire--my loftiest goals--seems too much. too big. too impossible. too far from where I am. is it humility that keeps me from shouting them from rooftops and letting the world know what I want?
or is it fear of appearing greedy and/or ridiculous for wanting too much?
or, perhaps, I've realized that the goals most essential to my life aren't easily quantified and will not confine themselves to dates and measurements and timelines. these goals include such achievements as to be at peace, to live a life that is filled with harmony, to exude compassion and acceptance, and to help my children grow roots and wings.
everything else is just a decoration.
not that I don't like decorations: I do.
finishing a bike race, moving to a new home, buying a new car, making a certain income, producing a specific number of widgits ~ these are all decorations, all things that are worth setting goals for and about. riding a certain number of miles each week, practicing a little yoga each day, remembering to always have my reusable grocery bags in the car . . .

so for some things I set goals, and let other things flow and happen when they are meant to.
it doesn't mean I'm not working toward what I want; it just means that I acknowledge that I'm not always in control of where my life is supposed to flow.

today in the mail

NEED I SAY MORE?

another first

my first thought was this:
if you're going to ride a bike in snow, this is the kind of snow to do it in.
it was widely spaced, a handful of seconds between each flake, and the flakes were small and light and dry, the kind that piles together and forms that perfect Utah powder our ski resorts brag about.
that thought actually remained with me for a good 5 minutes or so, as just a few dozen of those perfect little flakes drifted into my face or helmet or legs.
I was grinning, soaking in another new experience for me: riding my bike while it was snowing.

my next thought about snow, however, was that those sparse and dry little flakes had somehow changed into larger, wetter, more populous flakes. that were now slamming into my face and body, pelting me with little wet, sharp bombs, causing me to dip my head and squint behind my glasses and basically, feel just the teeniest tad short of miserable.

I decided I didn't like riding in snow.

the good news, however, is that this is Utah (where it's said that if you don't like the weather, just wait 5 minutes), and that snow only lasted for a couple more miles, and the cloud-dappled blue sky to the northwest remained cheery throughout the divebombing. no, it wasn't very warm out there, but the 40's are better than the 30's.

and now the clouds have lightened and split apart to reveal blue skies all over, and sunshine is beating down everywhere. sigh. some lucky people are just getting on their bikes, now, to head out on a snowless ride.
sigh.

well, they won't be able to claim a snowy canyon ride today, and so I (in that sick and twisted way) get to stay one up on them.

not that I'm keeping score.

4:40

I reached deep, deep, far down inside last week, and made a commitment.
I registered for power camp.

which means, come the middle of november, I will have to begin arising at ~ eek ~ the ridiculous hour of 4:40 am. yes, am.

which also means that between now and then I plan to sleep a lot.
the weather is complying with that plan, as it is cold and wet out there, and the overnight lows for the coming week are hovering right around the 40 degree mark. and a 40 degree overnight low means that an early morning ride up emigration will result in a freezing susan.
so I might as well sleep in and ride later.

and I plan to savor that luxury while it lasts . . .

if today were my last day

yesterday was a blustery day. coming down emigration the wind was beating me up as I pushed my way through it, and I was teetering on the edge of not having fun. (from biking 101: downhill is supposed to contain some element of fun.)
then a thought blustered into my mind: what if today were my last day on earth? would I still push this hard downhill, or would I relax just a little, ease off slightly on those pedals, and breathe a bit more slowly? would I look around more than usual, and with each breath, pull every bit of that beauty inside me?

I slowed down.
a bit.

I lightened my force on the pedals, breathed more deeply, soaked in a little bit more of the vibrantly orange trees, and smiled. my heartrate dropped and my entire body eased its grip on my bike, on my mind, on my life. I was deeply at peace with the world, the gorgeous world that surrounded me.

until I looked behind me and saw a guy in blue sitting on my wheel.
and I'm sure you know what happened next:
I sped up.

but for five beautiful moments I rode my bike, thinking about the sheer pleasure of an easy downhill spin during the fall on a sunny, chilly, absolutely perfect day.
I may have to do that more often.

hangers, revisited

just a little informational bulletin:

john received a phone call from a person at the company who is making the replacement Lotoja "finisher" awards. you know, the ones those of us who don't like our hangers have ordered. the sprockets, the award that we've learned to expect, the one that makes us feel like we walked away with something meaningful after our day-long ride across 3 states.

apparently we will have to wait a little bit longer than expected, as the demand has been overwhelming for the sprockets:
"we have to schedule an entire plating production run AND order in more material to make the awards . . . it caught us by surprise . . ."

wow.
I am SO not alone.
thank you, all of you who feel the same as I do. you made my day.

gumby and elastigirl

sam taught yoga this morning.
he's the ashton kutcher look-alike, though I'm not sure if ashton owns a pink knit watch cap like the one sam wore this morning. but it's certainly possible.
I like sam.
and this morning he had me grinning as he talked about super bendy people.
now if you're super bendy you'll be able to do this easily, but for those of us who aren't......
I fall into the latter category, the "aren't."
I'm not a gumby.
I creak when I bend, and there are some directions in which I just don't fold.

his talk about super bendy people led me to think about gumby, and elastigirl, from the incredibles.
once in a while our dinner table conversation gravitates to which super hero powers you'd want to have. would you rather be able to move from one place to another in an instant, or be the strongest person on earth? would you like to be invisible, or would you like to be elastigirl? one of my daughters always chooses elastigirl, though, to be honest, I think that's all about being lazy and wanting to have things without moving to go get them.

sam's yoga practice brought to mind gumby and elastigirl, but this had nothing to do with being lazy. it was all about having a body that moves and flexs and bends gracefully and easily: no small goal, however natural it might seem to be. being bendy either comes as part of who you are (gumby, elastigirl, ballerinas, gymnasts), or it's something you work at constantly.
I work at it for my body, but I think I work harder at it for my mind.
I believe I have a super bendy mind.
this is a mind that can flow and adjust, can stretch and bend, and yet always retain its healthy self. it likes exercise, it likes to flex itself. it's comfortable with backbends and leaps (especially those of faith) and truly loves to be twisted and then right itself again.
it can listen to opposing opinions, it can take in new information. it can expand and swell and push itself all the way around to the other side, and see two visions simultaneously. it can accept dichotomies. it's comfortable with gray. and most fabulous of all, it knows that the more it exercises itself, the more gumby-like it becomes.
sam has no idea what he started when he spoke of super bendy people this morning.
but my mind heard those words and took off running. and twisting. and bending a bit, too.