On your right

I spent a wonderful Labor Day weekend with dear friends in Wisconsin. It’s a rare treat to enjoy a long weekend away and an even rarer treat to see these friends. Their son is my godchild. He’s almost four now and refers to me as his grandmother, a title I feel quite privileged to wear. When I pulled up to their house there he was waiting for me out on the front stoop. It’s not very often that someone is so excited to see you that they wait for you all day but when it does happen it’s lovely.

He’s just learned how to ride a two-wheel bike. No kidding: not even four and he’s off tooling down the block on his own! I was in the second grade when my parents told me the training wheels on my bike were coming off and I was going to learn to ride my bike like a big girl, and who didn’t want to be a big girl? (Um, me?) I'm fairly certain there were no other seven year olds still riding their bikes to school with training wheels on. They were looking out for my best interests, wanting me to fit in.

Well, to my practical mind, four wheels were more sensible and much safer than two. I saw no need to remove the training wheels: they were the critical safety gear to keep me from tipping over. Nonetheless, the smaller wheels were removed and I did learn how to ride a bike like a big girl but not before I fell and gashed my right elbow wide open on the curb. It remained the biggest scar on my body until recently.

Bikes offer independence at a speed that cannot be found any other way until you’re old enough to drive. It must be such a sense of freedom he feels as he races his way to each end of the block. With the wind in his hair and a great big grin on his face he is exuberance personified. He loves to slam on his brakes and skid to a quick stop as is evidenced by the numerous tire marks on the sidewalk. As the family dog is well aware of, the finer points of control aren’t quite there yet so if you see him coming at you, step off into the grass, just incase.

I watched him for quite a bit and noticed that the balance he maintained was really an art of knowing where the tipping point was and then avoiding going beyond it. Most of the time spent balancing is spent maintaining balance; it’s not a static event. When balance was lost and he did fall, he’d get right up and shout ‘I’m okay!’ and hop back on his bike to ride some more. He seems unafraid of falling or getting hurt. Maybe he’s so focused on the joy of the activity that he’s unaware of the pain. Maybe it’s a price he’s glad to pay for the opportunity to explore the wider world.

Sometimes it’s the simple lessons that are the strongest. When you fall off, get up and shout ‘I’m okay!’ and get right back on. There’s a great big world out there to explore and investigate. Listen for my bell; you’ll know I’m coming up on your right.

Peace,
Karen