A friend has been sending me podcasts to listen to recently. I’m usually in the habit of just cranking up the tunes to get a bit of energy or inspiration before going to do my workshop for kids (along with a good dose of caffeine). But today, I’m heading to the garage before my workshop to get the air-conditioning in my car fixed. I am grateful to say that my workshops have gone amazingly well, and I realize so much of that has to do with the energy and intention I bring into the room. However, arriving at the workshop more in a state of the Incredible hulk than an affable and engaging coach, I feel the kid’s response may be less than positive.
So, any distraction from the oppressive heat was welcome. I flipped through the various Ted Talks I was sent, and found one called “To Endure.” I figured it was fitting, since I’ve been dealing with this cool air ‘deficiency’ throughout the three hottest days of the year! (Anyone who knows me is very aware that heat is my kryptonite!)
The podcast had several different people on it, all of whom had dealt with difficulties of physical or mental trials ranging from pulling your self-esteem up after being publicly embarrassed on a global scale, to dealing with hardships due to their environment. I figured listening to these difficult trials and tribulations would leave me feeling a bit inspired and a little less uncomfortable about my 20-minute sauna-of-a-commute to the garage.
Two guys on the Ted Talk caught my attention they described their amazing historical unsupported journey (on ski’s) 900 miles to the South Pole, and then back to the coast in Antarctica. Saunders, the leader of the expedition, talked about the whiteout conditions, his gratefulness for the color of his teammates jacket (nothing special, it was blue… but white was all they could see otherwise), the feelings of isolation, the food (or lack thereof). Throughout his talk, I kept finding myself thinking, “Geez, these guys have ridiculous mental resilience!” — at the same time, my irritation at not being “cool” caused me to speed my car up trying to get a bit of extra cooling wind.
But then I heard Saunders say something that brought me back to giving him (and not my immediate uncomfortability) my full attention. He spoke of a hard decision he had to make on his way back to the coast. He had this near perfect, unassisted mecca of a journey, and now, faced with too little food, he actually had to decide to call in for rations. He didn’t say he regretted his decision (he did say his ego was still struggling with it a bit), but he did describe, with the expedition going ‘nearly perfect,’ what dealing with that kind of choice taught him:
“You know that cliché [about] the journey being more important than the destination? There’s something in that. The closer I got to my finish line, the more I started to realize that the biggest lesson that this very long, very hard walk might be teaching me is that happiness is not a finish line, and if we cannot feel content on our journeys amidst the mess and the striving that we all inhabit, the loops, the half-finished to-do lists, the ‘could do better next times,’ then we might never feel it.”
Saunders wasn’t touting his extreme prowess or resilience (though those are obviously there). In fact, it was quite the opposite. He was confident, humble, and happy, even after having to make a concession that cost him his perfect goal.
As I pulled into the auto-shop, sweat staining my shirt, I realized that this was still my time, regardless of whether or not things were going perfectly. There was gratefulness for having the workshop lined up today, and although I didn’t know if I would arrive at an optimal body temperature, I did have the time and space (albeit in an auto-shop waiting room that wasn’t air-conditioned!) to write my blog. I’m thankful to Saunders for reminding me that my journey isn’t always going to be comfortable, but it is always going to be mine. I’m going to keep trying to be present and content amidst the mess and the striving…
