ARTICULATED

Years ago, I signed up a four-day bicycle ride to raise money for charity. At the new-rider orientation, I sat terrified as the organizers spelled out basic rules to minimize my chances of being splatted by a tractor-trailer before I made the first pit stop.

Yesterday on the bike, as I felt the windy wake of a passing 18-wheeler, I reflected back on those rules. It occurred to me that ever since that orientation, three of those rules have been shaping not only how I maneuver the open road on two wheels, but how I maneuver the roads and paths of work life:

1. When an 18-wheeler is about to pass, it can shove you aside without even touching you. Have you ever had someone do a maneuver around you at the office to get that cool project you wanted? Or earn that kudo? Or even secure that promotion? You may have felt like you were caught flat-footed, or even never saw them coming. But it’s possible you felt their maneuverings without knowing it. It’s even possible they blew you right out of the way. On a bicycle, when an 18-wheeler approaches from behind, you can detect the rush of wind preceding the truck long before it arrives. That rush of wind can push you off the road if you’re not alert. The learning? Someone is always approaching from behind. It’s up to us to detect it and make our own decisions about whether or not to let it move us.
2. When an 18-wheeler passes you, it’ll suck you into its wake. As air rushes to fill the vacuum created by a rapidly passing 18-wheeler, it will suck your bicycle from the shoulder out into the middle of the road unless you really hold your line. The learning? At the office, when someone blows past us, it’s easy to be drawn into their wake, whether or not that’s part of our plan. There’s lots to be learned from fast-trackers and their maneuverings. But we probably should do it without losing our own line.
3. Pass with courtesy, always. On a bicycle, sometimes you’re the passer, and sometimes you’re the person being passed. No one on a bicycle likes being surprised by another cyclist zooming past them without warning. A simple, courteous “On your left!” will do.  The learning? If you’re the fast mover at your office, you’re probably overtaking people. But you could be working with (or riding with!) them next year, or next month, or tomorrow. So be sure you’re treating them with courtesy along the way.

What other rules of the road for cyclists also apply in work environs?

(Photo courtesy of humbert15 via Flickr Creative Commons.)

I’ve been very focused the past couple of years on the concept of “transformation.”   Looking out on a new decade, it’s sparked me to reflect on what have been the most “transformative” moments of my life thus far.  I thought I’d list them and see if the process illuminates anything for me.  I will report back to the blog if it does.

1. Coming out of the closet (1995). This was a biggie, no surprise. With it I gave myself permission to be real and be happy. From comfort in one’s own skin, just about everything else flows.

2. Joining the PR firm world (1998). “The Dittus Group,” as it was called at the time, was my fourth job out of college but the first one where I actually fit.  Gloria Dittus was the first person who gave me a little room to stretch my legs. Her timing for lending trust and latitude was in lock step with my needs as a young and cocky hard-charger.

3. North Carolina to Washington, DC, AIDS Ride (1996). This first whet my appetite for big physical challenges and the amazing self-discovery that comes from them.

4. Outward Bound expedition (1997). The description for #2 above could fit this as well. But this was even more poignant. I learned that we discover how to be good people when we go into the wilderness and strip it down.

5. Getting on the telecom bubble (1999). I left my secure job in the midst of the telecom bubble to get rich. I didn’t, of course. But I got exponentially smarter; I learned how business really works. I have to thank my friend Dave Bornmann for that.

6. Going to work for Mike McCurry (2001). This was a brief and chance encounter. But that relationship continues to net the coolest and most rewarding projects I’ve had the good fortune of being involved with.

7. Starting Kinkennon Communications (2006). Of the whopping eight full-time jobs I’ve held in my career, I really only liked a couple of them. But I’ve been doing my own thing for more than four years now.  It feels something like a calling.

8. Sneaking off to Colorado (2006). I did it in the dead of night, terrified that pursuing the dream might do harm to my company or career. It didn’t. Colorado is the greatest place on earth, and I’ve never been happier. Of course, I continue to spend lots of time in DC, which likely is where my career will always be centered.

9. Sparking the formation of the Denver Gay & Lesbian Flag Football League (2007). I didn’t do this alone. But through it I had affirmed an ability to make about anything happen that I set my mind to. And I discovered the kind of people I’ve craved being around for so many years.

10. Adopting a dog (2007). I’d wanted a sidekick ever since I left my parents’ dog-filled house for college, but I thought the life wasn’t right for me. Despite all the inconvenience and annoyance, it’s taught me selflessness.  It’s brought me a curious peace.