The Shadow
"Between the Idea and the Reality,
Between the Motion and the Act,
Falls the Shadow..."
T.S. Elliot The Hollow Men
The launch of fall and a new school year always makes me crave a crave a crisp notebook filled with new ideas and goals, new schedules that make so much sense on paper, new approaches to old problems I've worked years to figure out. The key word here that invigorates is NEW.
So I make lists, goals, schedules. I shoot arrows into the future of where I want to be, say, next year at this time, 5 years from this time, and even further. Darwin and I set some goals as a couple, too. He does not get as excited about this session as I do, but he rides the wave with me. : )
I read this quote from T.S. Elliot a few weeks ago and keep thinking about how true it is. The "shadow" that fills the space between my great and lofty and noble intentions and my action is the way real change gets derailed. It happens every fall. It happens every January, too, with New Year's resolutions. After establishing my best-laid plans, the shadow creeps in. The shadow is where I decide my goal is too big. The cost is too high. The risk is too great. The shadow is where I get lulled back into doing only what I know, doing what is safe, doing what is easy.
So because of you, Mr. Elliot, I'm trying something different. Along with the goals, I'm identifying, naming and dealing with the shadow that accompanies the particular goal. Okay, here's an example. I would like to be able to jog 3-5 miles at a nice pace. Darwin is joining me in this one. I set the goal, hoping to run a 5 K in October. (I ran a half-marathon 10 years ago but no real running since then.) We started with a few gruesome times around the track. Yesterday, we ran 2.5 miles. And when I say "ran", I mean "slogged my way down the trail" counting down the seconds of when it would be over. IT'S HARD WORK. All you marathoners out there, including my newly buff brother-- I bow before you. How do you do it? During yesterday's run, I was keenly aware of my shadow the whole time. My running shadow likes to yawn and say, "You like walking. You like riding your bike. You don't like running. You like to sit on a soft couch and watch "The Dog Whisperer". This is hard on your knees. Shouldn't you be writing?"
I slogged on despite it's siren song, swatting the thoughts away and discovering at the end of this little jogging experiment, I actually felt... not bad. Almost alive, even. Tomorrow, we'll run three miles. And I'm assuming, I'm hoping, I'm planning, that in a few weeks, we'll run five.
A good quote...a big difference.
Between the Motion and the Act,
Falls the Shadow..."
T.S. Elliot The Hollow Men
The launch of fall and a new school year always makes me crave a crave a crisp notebook filled with new ideas and goals, new schedules that make so much sense on paper, new approaches to old problems I've worked years to figure out. The key word here that invigorates is NEW.
So I make lists, goals, schedules. I shoot arrows into the future of where I want to be, say, next year at this time, 5 years from this time, and even further. Darwin and I set some goals as a couple, too. He does not get as excited about this session as I do, but he rides the wave with me. : )
I read this quote from T.S. Elliot a few weeks ago and keep thinking about how true it is. The "shadow" that fills the space between my great and lofty and noble intentions and my action is the way real change gets derailed. It happens every fall. It happens every January, too, with New Year's resolutions. After establishing my best-laid plans, the shadow creeps in. The shadow is where I decide my goal is too big. The cost is too high. The risk is too great. The shadow is where I get lulled back into doing only what I know, doing what is safe, doing what is easy.
So because of you, Mr. Elliot, I'm trying something different. Along with the goals, I'm identifying, naming and dealing with the shadow that accompanies the particular goal. Okay, here's an example. I would like to be able to jog 3-5 miles at a nice pace. Darwin is joining me in this one. I set the goal, hoping to run a 5 K in October. (I ran a half-marathon 10 years ago but no real running since then.) We started with a few gruesome times around the track. Yesterday, we ran 2.5 miles. And when I say "ran", I mean "slogged my way down the trail" counting down the seconds of when it would be over. IT'S HARD WORK. All you marathoners out there, including my newly buff brother-- I bow before you. How do you do it? During yesterday's run, I was keenly aware of my shadow the whole time. My running shadow likes to yawn and say, "You like walking. You like riding your bike. You don't like running. You like to sit on a soft couch and watch "The Dog Whisperer". This is hard on your knees. Shouldn't you be writing?"
I slogged on despite it's siren song, swatting the thoughts away and discovering at the end of this little jogging experiment, I actually felt... not bad. Almost alive, even. Tomorrow, we'll run three miles. And I'm assuming, I'm hoping, I'm planning, that in a few weeks, we'll run five.
A good quote...a big difference.
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