The sub-zero temps recently in Colorado have me thinking back to the days when manly man-ness spent way more time in the driver’s seat of my life. I remember a winter, (Kansas in ’78 as I recall), when I rode my bicycle the 10 miles to work every day of the winter. The snowy and slushy days were wet, cold, and dangerous but somehow I avoided disaster.
I’ve been seeing several postings by cyclists this winter talking about their rides in the cold and snow. Each time I read one, I reach down deep into my psyche, and wonder whether that manly man-ness agent wants more time in the driver’s seat than he’s been getting as I’ve moved into the back half of my 50’s.
He ignores me. He seems to think I’ve got a screw loose or something. He reminds me of the fingers that have been frostbitten, and how heavily I need to glove them to keep them from severe pain when cycling in really cold weather. He wonders if there’s something I think he wants to prove, assuring me that he doesn’t.
It’s an interesting evolution to look back on – the evolution of a male ego through the first half (or at least the first 56 years) of it’s life. That ME (Male Ego) has helped me to do some amazingly stupid things through its history and evolution. I have no doubt at all that it will continue to cause me fits of both stupidity and insanity in the years yet to come, but it has certainly become more collaborative as I’ve gotten older.
And that collaboration has led to some refreshing wisdom in some cases.
We’ve all got those bits and pieces of us that can become our self-destruction if we allow it. We’re amazingly complex and multi-faceted beings. Finding a way to bring all the different “voices and drivers†to sit at the table and collaborate is important to our individual health, and it’s a critical prerequisite to our ability to nurture wisdom in our life.
Each voice is given to us as a gift that can help guide us into greater wisdom, and can open doors to growth of mind, body, and spirit. Collaboration within ourself is critical for health.
Think of it like a business enterprise. If the CEO is an insecure individual, he’ll make sure to fire or silence any voice that doesn’t agree with him. His staff will be filled with people who are good at saying yes, and stroking his fragile ego. Decisions are easy, since he makes them all with input only from people just like himself. The enterprise isn’t likely to grow and prosper in the long run, but the guy at the top gets lots of fuel for his starving ego.
A healthy enterprise, in comparison, will have a CEO who is secure. He’ll seek out voices on his staff that disagree with him. He’ll reward behavior that challenges him. Decisions will sometimes involve wailing and gnashing of teeth, because all facets of the decision will be explored. The enterprise will become stronger and more vibrant as it grows.
So it is within each of us as complex individuals. The healthiest among us will nurture diverse internal perspectives. Rather than deny something as absurd and destructive as a ME, we’ll incorporate it into the many voices that make us complete. Just like the bullies that sit at the table of the wise CEO, powerful need to be managed – they can’t be allowed to make decisions on their own.
But with wise collaboration, the powerful voices like the ME can help to fill a life with adventure and challenge and growth. Moderated with the wisdom of time, experience, and many scars, voices like the ME are essential to the whole and complete person.
So, I’ll continue to hear and read about the exploits of the young lions as they strut their feathers and pound their fists against their chests on the cold winter rides. I’ll send words of encouragement, and admire the degree to which the ME will push us into discomfort. I’ll admire their spirit, and look forward to the wonderful wisdom their spirit will someday be a component of.
And my fingers will stay warm as I spend my winter hours on an incredibly boring (but warm) trainer indoors, trying to keep the strength up for a few days of riding in February if I’m lucky, and maybe a few more in March. By the time May rolls around with the glorious weather, I’ll be trying hard to keep up with those young lions, but only a tiny little part of me will regret the loss of riding time in the cold weather.
And yet, maybe a chilly ride now and again, just to give that ol’ ME a little of the attention it craves?
Somebody tell me I’m not alone in this struggle…
