As summer draws to a conclusion once again I am faced with a familiar scene. Sun-bleached hair and and tanned brown skin still smell of salt and ocean air as I step onto Madison High School's campus.
Two dueling sides of my psyche clash in order to attain complete control of mind and body. The heart, both pumping life's blood throughout my body toward the extremities and making emotional and passionate appeals to my conscious thought, embraces and thrives on freethought, adventure, and desire, but maybe most importantly love. A love that connects all of us, yes, but more so in that it gives us comfort in our purposes in life.
It is the American way to earn a structured position of employment in order to provide for yourself and those directly connected to you. It is also the American way to push through such a life gridded and laid out by the constructs of the 9-5 work day. Many of us spend time and energy silencing the noise fighting for voice in your stream of consciousness. The noise that if paid any attention, would drive us to do something crazy, something drastic, something that does not fit in our neatly created world.
The brain can be found at the center of this struggle to silence the noise in weighing options, calculating, predicting and influencing your actions. Constricting freedoms through restrictive interpretations of what is necessary in order to exist and prosper in life, the brain works in order to support you in your drive to achieve a persona, in the safest way possible, that will be perceived by the masses as successful.
Once this successful persona is developed, the brain becomes hyper-aware of conceivable threats and further separates the decision making process from the heart. The heart, driven by its passion, seems to hold no connection to any calculated processes. The brain, knowing what is best for continued success and prosperity, may allow the heart to make minor contributions, but mostly it maintains its stance as "knowing best."
A life fueled by an uninhibited heart may be one of reckless abandon ultimately ending in a fireworks display the most gaudy of US Independence Day celebrations would envy, but to what extent do we allow our brains to drive us through our world and impact the decisions we must make. What balance between the two warring factions would both nurture a love and passion for what you do and how it is accomplished and also provide enough calculated maneuvers to ensure basic needs are met?
What do we call this balance? Calculated risk? What is to be made of a meshing of two seemingly opposite forces? Are we doomed to pick one of three lives? Are we driven by pure passion and act directly from the heart with little to no thought as to the consequences? Are we to risk living a drab life with little room for emotional expression for sitting, weighing, and measuring every decision to determine the safest and most beneficial path to take? Or, in the face of frustration and stress, are we destined to search for a harmonious balance between the two that may not even exist?
The leaders of this world have made a choice for themselves. Many have picked different avenues and made each one of them work, but at what expense? These questions are nothing new, and the answers are determined by an individual's level of comfort in his or her decisions, but, in a not so veiled attempt to stick up for the heart, I would ask one question: in a world filled with the unpredictability that ours is accustomed to, how calculated can you ultimately be in making any decision?
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
Rim 2 Rim 2 Rim - Part II
It has been over 2 years since my last double crossing of the Grand Canyon. The first attempt resulted in a time just under the 24 hr mark. I remember being thrilled with this accomplishment and satisfied with our efforts, but as time tends to erode the landscape of our memories so too does it allow the roots of ever growing questions to take hold in the conscious working their way toward the very change in perspective leading to the unthinkable.
How could we have approached the hike differently? Did it really hurt that much? How could I have managed my diabetes more efficiently? Could we have cut out or at least shortened our breaks? How did the season help or hurt us in our pursuit? Many other questions regarding our hike have filtered through my brain over the course of the last couple years, but there was none more vexing, none more compelling than, "Could we have done it faster?"
Each time I asked myself this seemingly simple question I had one and only one response... YES!
This summer, despite the warnings and suggestions to pick almost any other time to attempt this, we will be making another attempt at the crossing, but this time with the goal of going sub 20.
The plan is to arrive at the canyon on July 29th and begin at 2pm the following day. The timing is crucial as temps at the base of the canyon can climb into the 100s during midday. It will be a warm trek, so attention to hydration will be imperative.
The team will consist of two health challenged individuals battling our own distinct and separate obstacles. I feel confident in my approach in taking into consideration what I learned on the North Rim last time and making sure that I test more often.
The only missing piece at this point is the conditioning aspect. I have recently made the push to rededicate myself to training, so as we approach our departure, I am certain I will be in a much more appropriate state of mind and body.
The question I received from friends and family most the last time I embarked on this adventure was a resounding "WHY?" The answer can be complicated, but the easy route is blaming it on who I am, and who I have been for awhile.
Dating back to at least the elementary school I have thrived in situations where I have been doubted or told I could not succeed. I feed off the challenge. I think Moliere said it simply enough, "The greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it."
Don't get me wrong. I don't believe there is anyone out there doubting me necessarily, but I love the feeling generated from pushing myself up, over or through an obstacle to experience tangible limits. For me, there doesn't need to be a person doubting me anymore. Since I have been living with Type I Diabetes for a little over 5 years, I constantly feel I have this stigma to overcome. Everyday I focus on what I can do despite having the disease while never paying mind to any conceived resulting constraints.
How could we have approached the hike differently? Did it really hurt that much? How could I have managed my diabetes more efficiently? Could we have cut out or at least shortened our breaks? How did the season help or hurt us in our pursuit? Many other questions regarding our hike have filtered through my brain over the course of the last couple years, but there was none more vexing, none more compelling than, "Could we have done it faster?"
Each time I asked myself this seemingly simple question I had one and only one response... YES!
This summer, despite the warnings and suggestions to pick almost any other time to attempt this, we will be making another attempt at the crossing, but this time with the goal of going sub 20.
The plan is to arrive at the canyon on July 29th and begin at 2pm the following day. The timing is crucial as temps at the base of the canyon can climb into the 100s during midday. It will be a warm trek, so attention to hydration will be imperative.
The team will consist of two health challenged individuals battling our own distinct and separate obstacles. I feel confident in my approach in taking into consideration what I learned on the North Rim last time and making sure that I test more often.
The only missing piece at this point is the conditioning aspect. I have recently made the push to rededicate myself to training, so as we approach our departure, I am certain I will be in a much more appropriate state of mind and body.
The question I received from friends and family most the last time I embarked on this adventure was a resounding "WHY?" The answer can be complicated, but the easy route is blaming it on who I am, and who I have been for awhile.
Dating back to at least the elementary school I have thrived in situations where I have been doubted or told I could not succeed. I feed off the challenge. I think Moliere said it simply enough, "The greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it."
Don't get me wrong. I don't believe there is anyone out there doubting me necessarily, but I love the feeling generated from pushing myself up, over or through an obstacle to experience tangible limits. For me, there doesn't need to be a person doubting me anymore. Since I have been living with Type I Diabetes for a little over 5 years, I constantly feel I have this stigma to overcome. Everyday I focus on what I can do despite having the disease while never paying mind to any conceived resulting constraints.
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