In the distance ahead of me, I saw the silhouette of a man in a wheelchair. In that moment, my first thought was, “And what ever is my excuse for not getting out here?”
At my walking pace, and against the significant headwind, I calculated I would soon catch up with this man. Suddenly I felt a familiar anti-social pang to turn around, just so I wouldn’t have to meet another person. But I caught myself, and I did an override. I told myself I would keep walking, and I would at very least exchange a greeting with this person.
Just before I was about to pass the man on his left, I said a bright “good morning!” He smiled a hearty “good morning" back. “Enjoy the sunshine!” I said. He nodded as he pumped his arms uninterrupted and said, “It’s lovely!”
Walking backward now, I piped up with a grin, “What’s that accent I hear?”
“London! I’m from London!” he shouted.
I thought to myself, “Oh how much richer life is when I don’t shy away from it. How much brighter life is when I live with intention.”
Choosing Intention
For some time now, I’ve been living with anxiety. I know many of you can relate. When I realized I don’t like how it feels, one decision I made was to create an intention to engage. And that includes when I go for my walks at the Los Angeles River. Why? Because in the past, I didn’t have an intention. I would just walk.
If I felt open, I’d engage with others. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t interact at all. Some days, I was even blind to the presence of bird varieties seen there, and I’d avoid other humans. With each avoidance, I could feel my emotional constitution getting weaker. But I wanted to get stronger, not weaker. I’m not proud of it, but I would outright turn around if I saw a stranger in the distance up ahead, all in an effort to avoid engaging in any way. I was just totally self-absorbed in the tumult of my inner world.
If there was a gigantic column to hide behind, like we see in the movies, I’d have been behind it. Adrift, I was disregarding and undervaluing the gifts that life was continuing to offer up to me. To live without intention is like a boat without a rudder or a sunroom with the blinds drawn shut.
The man’s long thin arms pumped the wheels of his chair forward in my direction, and I could see his tall frame. One leg tapped the ground with each push, and his other leg was missing. We started walking together side by side, and we had a fascinating conversation.
As I listened, I learned. I realized he was not only kind, he was highly educated and wise too. I learned when he came the United States, and about the prestigious institution where he studied out east, what he does for a living, what happened that resulted in the amputation of his leg, how he wishes he still had it, phantom pain and why English chocolate is superior (with a special place for Cadbury).
If I wasn’t intentional and if I had not chosen to get over my anxiety of interacting with the world, I would have missed out on meeting this delightful person. Even bringing intentionality to areas of life that are not “high stakes” is decidedly rewarding.
It’s easier to imagine the cost if LeBron James approached a basketball game without intentionality. Or Lewis Hamilton racing at Formula 1 speeds without it. Or Suni Lee on the uneven parallel bars without clear intention.
Whether we apply intentionality to sport, or to interpersonal relationships or business, no one can argue that it’s unimportant. Maybe the benefits of intentionality won’t always hit the news, but they will always move the needle.
If you’ve read some of my past articles, you already know the ambiance of the Los Angeles River. It’s austere. Its color palette is cold. In many, places it’s dirty. I know what you’re thinking: “Sounds nice, Steph!”
Occasionally, it’s also graced by a heron, a mallard, an egret. A runner, a biker, a stroller.
It’s relatively peaceful. A person can think there. It’s like walking on a blank canvas and simultaneously imagining your life’s next brush strokes.
I’ve cried there, laughed there, listened to books and podcasts there. I’ve had Aha! moments and felt lost there. I’ve cursed my strained achilles there, and my knees have revolted. But I keep showing up to walk because I’m acutely aware of the fact that when I move my body, I move my mood. But, my mood was dictating too much of my worldview. And it needed to change.
Inside Job
The longer I work on my inner world and the more I commit to focusing on my health through nutrition, movement, meditation, writing and learning, the steadier I get on the inside. My nervous system isn’t so reactive, and it’s less likely someone else can funk up my vibe. I’m now more interested in elevating their vibe. When I’m steady on the inside, I’m less afraid to engage with the world outside. In fact, I’m excited to affect it.
Now, when I feel that familiar trigger of fearing engagement, I’m committed to noticing it for what it is, then overriding it. It’s shown me how much life we miss out on when we don’t steady our internal world and engage with life.
As our walk and talk continued, the man told me he has a prosthesis, and that it’s uncomfortable so he seldom wears it. He kept a steady cadence as he shared how he gets out to the river twice day to exercise his body and to get fresh air and sunlight.
I asked if he had ever heard of a mobility device called the Alinker. We had written and produced a story about it for Innovation Nation on CBS a few seasons back. Since the invention engineered and designed by Be Alink was new to him, the man asked more and more questions about it. As I held up my phone, he shaded the sunlight to watch a portion of our story there on the path.
He asked me what I do and told me about a way my skillset could potentially be of value to his friend’s professional life.
Then he gave me his number so I could send information about the Alinker. And now we’ve established a text conversation.
None of this would have happened if either one of us had shut the other person out and refused to engage.
Let the scoreboard show: Avoidance: 0 Engagement: 1.
And intentionality for the win.
