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 — 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, I’m a fairly strong rider, but I’m not very fast. It’s 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 I’m doing. And they treat me that way, just because that’s
impression I’m giving on
outside.
They don’t know that I’m a little slower than my friends. They just know I look like a “real” 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 I’m a cyclist based on what I wear. But that’s only while I’m cycling. What does my day-to-day appearance tell
universe - and myself – about who I am?