Dancing on the Line

And what a fine line it is — as in narrow, as opposed to wonderful.  Although it could be wonderful.  But I digress.  I know, you’re wondering what the heck I’m talking about.  Here’s the deal.  AS many of you know, I set myself the goal of running a marathon next year (fall 2010) to be exact.  And I’ve decided to tackle this in baby steps.  The first of these steps was to enrol in a learn-to-run class at my local gym.  I started at the end of March, and the class was 6 weeks in length, which took us to last week.  On our last sesssion, we ran 5 km, which was the goal for the class.

Now, admittedly, I did not run the 5km straight.  I did stretches of 8 minutes running, interspersed with 2 minutes of walking.  Given that I started way back in March with 3 minutes of running and 2 minutes of walking, I figure I’m doing pretty well.  One of the things I noticed towards the end of the class is that I definitely prefer to run alongside someone.  Having a buddy keeps me motivated, even when I want to stop.  And I knew that I was going to have to reach for some internal motivation to keep me going once the class was finished.

Well, until today, I haven’t run at all this week.  Interesting eh?  And today, having mapped out a 5 km route, I found it REALLY challenging to push myself to do the full 5 km.  I’ll confess here and now that I stopped short; I only ran about 4.2 km.  Definitely over 4, and not 5.  So what’s the fine line?  It’s the line between pushing myself to reach a goal, and listening to what my body actually needs.  Truthfully, my body wanted to stop around the 2.5 km mark.  But I knew I could definitely do more than that!  As I neared the 4 km mark, however, the shin splints started to kick in.  Years ago, they happened alot. Through this running class, they only happen when I haven’t stretched enough in advance.  And I know from past experience that if I push myself to run with the shin splints, I’ll pay BIG TIME for it later.

Now, hear me correctly: I’m not trying to make excuses here.  Instead, I’m truly trying to discern the fine line between challenging myself and knowing when to stop.  It’s a constant dance for me, figuring out my limits.  And truthfully, the limit changes — the line moves — on a regular basis.  So what’s my point?   I guess I’m feeling and wanting to remind myself (as well as my readers) that in the end it’s imperative for you to determine for yourself, moment-to-moment, day-by-day how far you’re going to push yourself.  Where is the line for you today?  And how do you know?  Because when it comes right down to it, only you get to decide whether what you’re doing is in integrity with your aims, or if you’re selling out.  As painful as it may be, sometimes stopping short is the most integrity-filled thing to do.  And it’s up to you.

Teach Your Children…

One of the things I love doing is listening to my children set goals, intentions and objectives.  It’s a lot of fun to hear what’s important from the perspective of a 6 or 9 year old!  It was almost 4 years ago now, when my son was starting grade 1, that I started teaching him and my daughter how to decide – before they walk out the door in the morning – what kind of a day they were striving for.   And what they wanted to accomplish within that frame.

Now, after much practice, these intentions often sound something like,”Today, I want to have a confident day and do well in music.”  And what I love about these intentions is the simplicity of them.  Simplicity wrapped around a powerful intention.  That’s what it is.  Because to have a “confident day” requires you to make certain choices.  It means choosing a certain demeanor, a specific course of action.  And the same is true regadless of what adjective you choose to describe the day you’re striving to create.

Inviting my children to clarify their goals and objectives provides us as a family with a rich opportunity to learn about what it takes to create the day/life you want for yourself.  When my daughter claims that she’s striving for a “happy” day, and then comes home having had anything but happy experiences, the situation is ripe with opportunity for us to explore the choices made, what could have been done differently, and what learning arose.  It’s a lesson in standing in true creative potential.

As I look around at the world today it occurs to me that many people are only just realizing their personal creative power having reached adulthood.  I believe that there is much to be gained by teaching children the power of conscious choice — along with the power of play and the 3 r’s — from a very young age.  Imagine having it be second nature – a habit – to create the day you want, more often than not.  Bottom-line:  it’s never too late — or too early — to start exercising the muscle of  conscious choice.  In fact, the earlier you start strengthening it, the more your realm of possibility will expand.  Doesn’t that sound awesome?

There’s Something in the Air

You know, for the last few days there’s been something in the air.  I wasn’t really aware of it at first; I made the assumption that what I was feeling was something inside ME.  But then I started looking around, talking to others, and realized this is not just ME.  This is a lot of people.  And what I know from experience is that when a  lot of people seem to be having the same feelings going on, it’s the energetic field that’s got something going on.  Here’s what I’ve come to believe about the energy of the world right now:  the voice of fear is drowning out the voices of trust, reason and love.

“So what?”, you might ask.  Well, here’s what.  When the voice of fear is as loud as it currently is, there’s a heaviness of heart that’s evident all around us.  And that heaviness has people making snap decisions — decisions based in fear — which is rarely a good basis for a decision.

So what’s the solution?  You play a game.  The waiting game, more specifically.  That’s right, you sit down, breathe, and wait things out.  Let yourself get really still and quiet.  Quiet your mind, quiet your tongue.  Let the voice of fear shout itself out (you don’t have to listen to it) until it’s hoarse and then allow the other voices — the voices of trust, reason and love to make themselves heard. You’ll know that you’re hearing those voices when the heaviness in your heart lifts.  And then, with a lighter heart, you can make your choices.  Ironically, they may be the same choices as you were feeling inclined towards when listening to the voice of fear.  When those choices are made in a spirit of trust, reason and love, howver, they’re more likely to garner results that serve.  Which is a good thing.