A couple of years ago, I decided that cycling sounded like a good hobby. I bought a bike and one Saturday morning put on a t-shirt and shorts and lugged my bike out to meeting place of a local cycling club.
What a surprise I got when I showed up and everyone else there was in full cycling gear ó jersey, bike shorts, shoes, whole thing. I felt intimidated and nervous. Sure, I knew how to ride a bike, and I was in pretty good shape, but how could I keep up with these people, who obviously knew what they were doing?
I was plenty insecure at first. But I stuck with it, and after a while got shorts, and jerseys, and even special shoes that clip onto special pedals. I looked like I fit in.
Now, Iím a fairly strong rider, but Iím not very fast. Itís often a struggle to keep up with group.
But only group knows that. When I go out for a solo ride, I put on my jersey and shorts and shoes and pedal along at my less-than-breakneck pace. But when I pass people in shorts and t-shirts (and I do!) I know what I look like to them. Like I know what Iím doing. And they treat me that way, just because thatís impression Iím giving on outside.
They donít know that Iím a little slower than my friends. They just know I look like a ďrealĒ cyclist, so they assume I am one. In their eyes, I am.
We know from our studying that prosperity is largely an inside job. We manifest it on outside based on what we think on inside. But outside counts too. I convince people on street that Iím a cyclist based on what I wear. But thatís only while Iím cycling. What does my day-to-day appearance tell universe - and myself Ė about who I am?