There is a myth that we should make up all our decisions objectively.
We should have a plan, a schematic, a framework forwards for making the best decisions and entering into a journey of continuity, security and safety.
Not too many bumps in the road.
At the moment, I have a lot on my mind, thinking about opportunities and directions and how my time is spent and what I should do.
I'm at that age, probably.
What we've created here is quite extraordinary, and every single day there are people asking us to join them or to do things or to work together or to take projects forward that are unbelievable really.
The problem with that, though, is that there's only so much time.
The clever people cast stuff aside to move on to the next thing (if they think that's appropriate).
The even more clever people don't take the new thing in the first place and are contented with where they sit.
Travelling to work today, though, first of all, there was a van with something written on it that sparked my attention, then there was a number plate that spelt ‘panic’, and then on the side of the road was a burnt-out bus with graffiti with the word faith on it.
Pulling all these things together, I realise that we are not just made of structure and made of steel.
We are beholden to our emotions and our experiences and all the things that come before.
Stepping outside of yourself to see back in to make big decisions is useful, but making them from within, from your heart, is also useful.
There are signs everywhere, aren't there?
After that, I had a guy come in and sit in front of me as a new patient I've never met before.
He told me the story about how his work meant that he missed the entire upbringing of his eldest child and about half of his second.
Deep stuff, but lessons.
Signs, signs everywhere.
Blog Post Number - 4671
Back in the day, when I got diagnosed with my thyroid disease and I was trying to go and ride the Haute Route 5-day event in the Pyrenees, Alex supported me through that when no one could see. In the lead-up, he even pushed me up a hill.
He wrote a blog after that, which I've kept, and I'll never publish because I don't have guest bloggers here - sorry.
But I remember it, and I remember it well, and so what he said at the end of that was chapeau, and that is what cyclists say to each other out of respect, and when they are impressed.
So, chapeau, Alex.