Look where you want to go.” This is the very first thing I heard when I was learning mountain biking. At that time, it sounded simple. Almost obvious.
But it stayed with me. Later, when I started riding more seriously — especially with my son — I heard a variation of the same advice over and over again: “Look where you want to land.” “Don’t look at the lip.” “Don’t look at the drop.”
If you stare at the lip of the jump, you get intimidated by the magnitude of it. Its height. Its consequences. Your body stiffens. Your mind hesitates. And the bike can sense the fear lurked deep with in your subconscious.
But if you look at the landing — really see the place where you want to land — something shifts. Your brain starts working differently. It starts navigating there. Quietly. Surreptitiously . Without drama.
And that’s when I realized — this is not just about mountain biking. This is life. Every day, we are all huffing and puffing. Skipping breakfast. Quick goodbyes to our loved ones. Rushing into vehicles. Rushing into meetings. Rushing into stress. A lot of haphazard motion without mindfulness
But where are we actually looking? Are we staring at the “lip”? The deadlines. The bills. The fears. The magnitude of everything that can go wrong? Or are we looking at where we truly want to land?
Because eventually — whether we slow down or not — we are all going to land somewhere.
And when you zoom out far enough, you realize something humbling. The final landing is the same for all of us. When you truly absorb that, something softens. You become a little more patient. A little more kind. A little less reactive. You don’t grip the handlebars of life so tightly.
You start choosing your landing spot intentionally — not in terms of money or title — but in terms of how you want to feel… and how you want others to feel around you.
So maybe the question is not: “How high is the jump?” But: “Where do I want to land?” Because when you look at your destination — truly look at it — your brain, your actions, and your energy begin aligning in that direction. The bike follows your eyes. Life does too.
Please subscribe to my news letter for more life experiences and real life stories.
