The serendipity of gratitude and being dead tired.
I haven’t exercised in a week. Well, I exercised once. One full hour of uninterrupted movement — but not on my Trikke. When I’m being very disciplined, I get up while it’s still quite dark, go down to the basement, get on a machine, put earphones in my ears, start one of five playlists on my iPod and just work. I don’t ride my Trikke in the dark; plus, that early in the morning this time of year is pretty darned cold.
I miss it, and I know I’m going to miss it all winter. I’ll get out occasionally on a weekend, on days when I can win the argument with my desire to remain warm. It’s hard enough to get up and brave a cold house. I am a real wimp.
This is one of the signs of a change of seasons — the inevitable progression of the year. We’re all shocked, shocked that Thanksgiving is upon us, saying the same thing every year: “I can’t believe how fast the year went!”
The truth is, a major part of my year went pretty slow — the part where I was waiting to hear about a job I really wanted. It took two months from the time I was phone interviewed to actually sitting down to the three-and a-half hour session in front of five people.
I knew I’d be perfect for the job and had a long time to consider how I’d answer questions and sell myself as the best candidate. I waited with patience. What else can one do? I love my small business, but the truth is, I’m better with a routine and a steady paycheck, performing my avocation on the side and having double the fun.
“I wanted to fight the fear tendency … and I did — on my Trikke.”
The waiting felt slow. July moved like a sundial. August was thirty-one days of getting on my Trikke each evening and counting myself blessed to be in the running for such a good position. During those long rides, I’d remind myself of all the good in my life, and while remaining utterly optimistic, prepared myself for the possibility that things might not turn out as I fervently hoped. It wouldn’t be the end of the world. Trikke rides kept me level.
Not only that — I took my Trikke to the office park where my prospective employers were located. On a Sunday afternoon, I rode around the building where I might be interviewed and rolled through the connected parking lots, leaving my tracks as though I were Goldilocks testing out each mattress in the home of the Bears.
I don’t believe that visualization brings success; I just wanted to stay on the side of potentiality. Years ago, at a seminar, I remember hearing a psychologist, who was speaking, commenting on how we automatically turn to fear when we lose a job. “What if I don’t get another one?” we ask ourselves. To which he said, “Why isn’t our first thought, ‘What if I get a better one?’”
I wanted to fight the fear tendency with the expectation of joy, and I did — on my Trikke.
I’ve been dead tired every night this week — my sixth week on the job. I’ve been unable to drag myself out of bed to begin my regimen early in the morning. But it’s a good tired, a fatigue that delights me, because of the learning curve I’m negotiating and the amount of information I’m processing. I’m grateful for this wonderful job.
Thanksgiving didn’t creep up on me — I’ve been giving thanks since I got the call from my new boss. Before that, even, because I was determined to maintain an attitude of gratitude no matter what happened.
I didn’t exercise this week, but I have a really, really good reason for not doing so. I give thanks this year for the waiting, for the slow progress to goodness, for the enjoyment of contemplative evening rides. I give thanks that spring will be here in just nineteen weeks and I’ll start up my regular Trikke rides again. I’m sure the time will just fly.