Do you remember when you were 5 or 6, or perhaps like me a bit older, and you had the glorious experience of learning to ride a bicycle? All my kids have had the benefit of starting on a small bicycle and I highly recommend one where the feet can easily touch the ground. My parents, like most I assume, purchased bicycles that their kids could grow into. My first was a lime green huffy with a banana seat but it sat largely unused for many months, because I was too daunted by the fact that I couldn’t really touch the ground with any sense of security–I call it “the fall factor” and it was most certainly too great for a child who would never be defined as a dare devil. Somehow I passed this hesitancy down to all three of my children. The eldest two learned to ride on a tiny little bike that Chad procured for them in the Middle East. We affectionately call it “the monkey bike” and my kids were able to find their feet or perhaps I should say find their wheels, after hours and hours of practice. Fall-free I might add!
Just this week my youngest learned the amazing feeling of balancing on two tiny wheels–not the monkey bike which has long since passed into posterity, but his own starter bike: Lil’ Burmeister (we didn’t name that one). The training wheels have been off for some time and the Big Wheel has been ridden to where it needs a new front wheel but finally, somehow, it just clicked with him. His dad nonchalantly told him to just roll down the drive way and lift up his feet and believe it or not he was off and riding! My cautious child gliding from driveway to driveway and around our circle. Not with obvious joy yet–too much concentration had to be mustered for a carefree smile to grace his precious little blue-eyed face. But it will come. Oh to feel that feeling of accomplishment, that rite of passage in childhood, of riding a bicycle as adults who cherish you stand by and cheer wildly. I imagine we never outgrow the need for someone to cheer us on.
Actually, I don’t have to imagine too hard because the other day, this 43 year old mom did something for the first time and it was quite an accomplishment. I have always been a poor swimmer at best and certainly never been able to float, other than the dead man’s float! When I swim, it is with my face in the water and I never can seem to coordinate the breathing and arms. Not much of a problem– as long as I can touch the bottom of the pool! But it does look more like struggling than swimming! So when my mother-in-law, who is a floater supreme, took it upon herself to coach me through floating on my back, I was skeptical but I humored her. My husband has been patiently trying to teach me for 20 something years how to float and I have done one thing–sink. But with baby steps, I proceeded to diligently try and you know what? It finally clicked! I floated here, I floated there, I crashed into the side of pool (no injuries), I did smile and I enjoyed the feeling of swimming without my face in the water. But mostly I enjoyed learning something new! You can teach a middle-aged dog new tricks! It was something akin to riding a bicycle and that feeling has been a long time coming!. it was even more beautiful because my family was there cheering me on, even though I’m sure I was far from graceful. It is lovely to have an audience when you’ve learned something new.
So now it has been a couple of days since my euphoria and the doubt settles in–will I be able to do it again? Will I have forgotten my newly learned skill of which I was so proud? I know it must sound silly, but I couldn’t stop floating the other day because I wanted to make sure I would remember how to do it. I see this in Alex, he wants to go out and ride his bike, just a for a few minutes 10 times a day, just to reassure himself he hasn’t forgotten how It certainly is true that a new skill requires practice so I really do need to make a concerted effort to get back to the pool this week. I need to think positively and I need to be patient with myself and make sure I get really good at holding my breath for those few (or many) times I go under. I have to have faith that I can float–I witnessed it, experienced it and the fact of the matter is, I am fearfully and wonderfully made to float! I will not sabotage my own efforts by thinking of it as a fluke. It has clicked and from here, I am just going forward to bigger and better things. Hopefully I will soon learn to avoid my fellow swimmers and the side of the pool. I might be a little rusty but I can do it! I will do it.
Just like riding a bicycle!
Decidedly Different 