“I will not hinder my taste for aversions. I will so trust that what is deep is holy, if we follow the truth, it will bring us out safe at last.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
Think of a time when you didn’t think you were capable of doing something, but then surprised yourself. How will you surprise yourself this week?
I remember the days being blistering hot as the summer was being written to the soundtrack of sweat, sunshine and a neighborhood of kids loving every minute. It was a typical weekday filled with no school and all the playtime an 8 year old could hope for. Just one thing haunted the back of my childhood thoughts- the daunting reality that I could not ride a bike without the oh-so embarrassing wobbly training wheels. All my friends, including my 5-year-old little brother, were getting dizzy off of the circles they made in the street. Yet I stood there, sweat dripping from my frizzy curls as they mixed in with the tears. I was in quiet a pickle as an 8 year old: I didn’t want to be left out of the laughter, yet I was overcome with the possibility of falling. Running away, I hurried inside as my mom was in the cool house folding laundry and enjoying her afternoon escape of Guiding Light. Concerned something actually happened, she lifted my hot sweaty little body up on the bed and left me to chill out (literally and figuratively). As I sat on her bed, I got lost in my little mind as the blue sponge painted walls and Philip Spalding became white noise to my wondering fears. I stared out the window, knowing the tears were not directed at anyone but myself.
Then, it hit me. I sat straight up and decided at that moment to overcome my adversity. Heck, if my little brother can ride a bike, gosh darn it, so can I! A soon as Daddy walked in the door that evening I knew it was tonight or never. As we made our way out to the garage, the panic of reality started to set in. But I knew I had to be a big girl, I was going to be in fourth grade after all. We made our way to the end of the driveway and towards the cul-de-sac that daunted my thoughts. I placed the pink helmet on my curly ball of hair and put one leg over as my Dad’s hands securely held the bike. I felt the push of the steady hand and my legs started to pedal forward.
“Daddy, don’t let go yet! Don’t let go!”
“I wont until you are ready.”
“Daddy, don’t let go yet! Don’t let go!”
“Laura Jean you are doing it!” as his voice became more distant and my legs pedaled faster.
For the next few hours I soaked up the summer sunset as my brothers and me rode our bikes in endless circles. Looking back to the house I saw my parents, sitting in the driveway surrounded by the half deflated kiddie pool and basketballs, cheering us on.
The next day I conquered the neighbor’s driveway and ran into the mailbox. No worries, its on homes video somewhere.
But yes, I got back on the bike.
