reaching

the grass is greener where you water it. 

This week has me feeling out of step with the universe, trying to fall back into sync with old rhythms. But that's part of life, and part of learning to dance. Just need to reach a little harder, right? 

Breathe in, and reach. I accept that this is a slow progression of expanding oneself. In agility I have learned this well, that patience and clarity yield results. It is a vulnerable state to sink into one's mind for every run, it is a commitment to true effort every step of the way. This also leaves us open to true failure, of simply not being good enough at that moment. This happens, mistakes happen. We all know how to take the lesson out of a mistake, as challenging as that may be sometimes. It could be considered a silver lining, but rather I see mistakes as a treasure. I have not found a way to fix a flaw I do not know exists. That is why I have learned to be comfortable putting out our best effort every run with the understanding that it will not always reach the results I intended. 

If I am being honest in this dissection of myself it is important for the world to know that my first world championships had me ready to hurl, left completely unnerved in our abilities as a team. Whim and I managed each run. I say this to mean that we were not connected, it was the efforts of two distant entities chipping away at the same task in some incoherent fashion. We could not understand each other, and here I learned that I was not yet part of a team with my dog. It took every shred of mental effort, every application of my mental management practices to survive that weekend. I left with not only a gold medal thanks to my incredible medium teammates, but a mission to turn Whimzy and I into a cohesive unit. I was done battling my dog around the course always at odds with her decisions. I wanted to communicate in the same tongue. Two years down the road, just after our second worlds, our connection is now sharp and my nerves are hard. Stepping to the line I do not think twice about the possible faults, because I know without a doubt we can get the job done. We are just up for our turn to dance, our turn to sink into the rhythm, the moment, into each other. We now know each other, the way we move and speak is in balance with the other. This was a slow progression of expanding our skills and understanding of both our bodies. This is the result of pure mileage, you cannot hurry the hours or the process. Nor should you. This is a journey, not as a team, but to become one. 

Don't rush, I say it all the time. Mostly to my students, but to myself now more than ever. Learning to take the time that is necessary will make you the most effective handler for your dog. This is a balancing act particular to each team. I can tell you when, I can tell you where, I can tell you how late that cue was. But timing is not a shareable knowledge. We must reach a little deeper every opportunity we have to fine tune that connection. That is agility, one aspect of life these lessons apply to. I have spent my life so passionate about and completely devoted to this sport. In the last year the world has expanded in front of me and I feel honored to delve into so much at once. We have the choice to have a passion or not,  or two, or three. We also have the choice to simply be passionate about all the aspects of all the life things. Agility has offered much that can transcend into other places of my life, and I am grateful to have brought lessons back to agility as well.  I am learning that passion for all things as a collective goal of improvement, to sink into it and to be able to reach a little harder. I am finding that there is a great benefit to encompassing your goals with one another.