Keeping my balance



“Happiness is a journey, not a destination.”

We don’t go through life with the vision and goal of getting to a certain place. That’s because who we are and what we do and what we believe in is constantly changing, constantly evolving. We are not the same person today that we were yesterday. Our ideas change. Our visions change. Our passions change. Or souls change.

Life is about the journey. Happiness is about the ride. We are never fully at the end of something. We are merely on a continuous path.

So when I ask myself: “how do I get there?” I am referring to a state of mind. Not a place. But I think that was pretty obvious in my last post. But I am just now realizing that just like life isn’t about the destination, neither is state of mind. State of mind is not about the destination. It’s not about the final result. State of mind is ever-changing.

Yes, you can be happy. You can BE a certain way. You can GET to a certain emotion. You can FEEL happiness, success, power. You can BE accomplished. You can FEEL comfortable in your own skin, or confident in what you’re doing. But when you set yourself up on a journey of continuous self-improvement, you have to ask why.

Without getting too philosophical here, I’ll cut right into where today’s post is going. I think it’s OK I’m not “there” yet. I also think it’s OK that I’m not quite sure what “there” means or how to get there, or even if I want to get there. I actually think it’s a good thing to continuously want to improve. Improve my cycling, improve my running, improve my health, improve my relationships, improve my mind, improve my thinking. We should never stop improving. Instead of looking at my training as something I’m unprepared for, I should look at it as something I am improving.

When people ask me how my training is going, I give them the typical Marjie-doubting-pessimism-let’s-not-get-too-excited response: …. “uh, OK. I’m … GETTING there.”

And when he or she responds with something uplifting and encouraging like “You’ll do great,” I respond by saying “Well, we’ll see.”

Always doubting myself. Putting that doubt first so I don’t disappoint myself or anyone else. Not REALLY believing I’ll be ready.

Does this remind you of another scenario in my life?

My wedding.

I would never let myself talk too much about my wedding or get too excited about my wedding just in case it didn’t happen. Just in case I had to get another implant removed. Just in case my breast cancer came back. Just in case I got another cancer before the wedding. JUST IN CASE it didn’t work out.

I held back. I was inherently excited about the wedding. So excited I could burst, every single second of every day. But I worked so hard to suppress it. I worked to suppress it so I wouldn’t let myself down if something went wrong again.

I got Leukemia a few months before my Bat Mitzvah. I didn’t have my Bat Mitzvah.

I got breast cancer before my wedding. I had my wedding.

I’m training for a 200-mile bike ride. I’ll do the bike ride. I’ll DO the bike ride.

One of the things I pride myself most on is being able to sort out my thorns and move forward, even if just a little. Writing helps me figure out what exactly I’m feeling, and oftentimes why, and sometimes, just sometimes, what to do about it. The goal is always to move forward. Improve myself. And that includes improving my ability to figure out what’s stunting me, come up with a viable solution, and move on. Because life is too good and life is too short to weigh yourself down. You should never let anyone else weigh you down. But come on, to weigh YOURSELF down? What a waste.

Granted, it’s not always easy and I know I have a million little emotional and mental “glitches” to work out. Nothing is perfect. If I didn’t have some emotional challenge or task to take on I wouldn’t be human. I’d probably be pretty boring.

The moment we stop trying to improve is the moment we should be scared.

It’s not that we can’t get there.

It’s not that we don’t want to get there. It’s not that we DO want to get there.

It’s not even about what “there” is, or what “there” means.

“There” is something different to everyone; we choose our own “there.”

For me, it is about being at a place where I feel comfortable and confident in my training for Tour de Pink, and comfortable and confident in my life to the point I’m not always thinking about cancer or worrying about cancer. A place where I am comfortable and confident that I AM healthy and will continue to BE healthy, and anything that changes that is NOT in my control.

Getting “there” most certainly is a journey. And I realize that now. I was so frustrated before, trying to get “there” – to that place. I thought once I got to that place I’d be good. But that place doesn’t exist. Just like trying to find happiness, trying to find your own “there” is a constant journey. We never complete the journey. If we did complete the journey, we’d embark on a new one. That’s life. A constant journey within yourself to work towards something. And that’s not a bad thing. It’s something to embrace.

Perfection doesn’t exist.

There’s no way I will perfectly ride my bike 200+ miles from Philadelphia to Washington, D.C. this September. There’s no way I will glide up hills, a smile on my face, taking minimal water and food breaks and laughing along the way.

MY perfect is completing the ride. Even if it takes crying and falling. Even if it takes swallowing bugs and mud on my legs. Even if it takes 200 tries to get my feet inside the pedal straps. Even if it takes me 8 hours to complete the first day. Even if I throw up on the side of the road. All I want to do is finish Tour de Pink, no matter what it takes. I don’t care how it looks or feels. It probably won’t be pretty and it probably won’t be glamorous.  But it will be ME doing it.

So how do I get there?

Albert Einstein once said: “Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving.”

So how do I get there?

That’s no longer my question.

Like I said in my last post, the finish line of Tour de Pink is only the beginning.

The finish line isn’t even “there.”

And if the finish line of a double century bike ride isn’t my “there,” then where is my “there” and what is my “there?”

I am happy to report is doesn’t exist. But I can assure you I have every intention of keeping my balance in the meantime.

Our new house!