I now interrupt this recent string of video-blogging with this long-winded piece about something that's been rattling around my mind for the past while (don't worry, it's just one post...for now):
I occasionally get a feeling inside that I'm not who I want to think I am. My identity is always in question, I suppose, but in these moments I feel a deep nagging sense that something is changing.
This is most easily described/felt in my physical world. I love to get into new things. I like to set goals and accomplish them. Then...I move on. Sure I like to repeat and improve, but there will always be something new to try.
For instance, in recent years I have dedicated many long hours to physical challenges.
It began with cycling. When I first heard of people riding 100 or 200 miles at a stretch I thought it was crazy...and then I wanted to do it. So I did. Then I did it three more times, twice alone, and once with a friend in a large group. I drug my friend to my goal despite his best arguments against it. I learned about the Tour de France and cycling techniques. For the first time in my life I was memorizing athlete profiles and jumping into conversations about sports. I enjoyed cycling so much that I vowed deep that I would never give it up.
Next came the marathon. I had a nagging desire to complete one. So I worked through immense pain to do so. Then I did it again to improve and do it right. I enjoyed them both. I could be satisfied, but given the right social stimulus (read: peer pressure) I would do it again.
This summer I thought I would continue cycling. You know, cause I'd never give it up. Unfortunately my road bike has seen less than 100 miles of pavement. I have no idea how the Tour went this summer. BUT I have completed at least 100 miles in the last month on my mountain bike.
The difference this year is that I've put my time into other venues. Instead, I've been on the water behind a boat more in one summer than ever I have in my life.
Wakeboarding has been a different animal to me. In order to go wakeboarding I must depend on other people. I'm glad there are wonderful people out there who would take a bum like me under their wing and show me the ropes. So I've let myself get wrapped into the water sports realm. Between riding sessions I am often thinking about how I would like to improve my skill-set the next time I'm out.
Like my teenage days, I yearn to be identified by the things I do. I'd like to be a wakeboarder. Just like I have been a runner, a cyclist, an artist, a dirt biker, a scholar, an RC hobbyist, a wrestler, a musician, an engineer, a cowboy, a gamer, a scouter, a snowboarder, a writer, etc. I desire to be this person so much that when a season comes to an end there comes with it a tug against my identity.
More than a tug, it has, at times toppled me mentally and spiritually. Because that's really what it is: The natural worldly pull against my spiritual path. Thankfully, I've always had a foundation to lift me back up and remind me who I really am. Despite the bragging and incessant showing off of what "idendifies me", my family keep a steady base for me to re-stabilize on.
Truly shocking to me is the fact that as a father and a husband, I am a stabilizer also. I really hope my swaying motions - from one adventure to the next - will not overwhelm the occupants of my home.
Do you IDENTIFY with this piece?
