Training Wheels
Nothing compares to the simple pleasure of riding a bike. —John F. Kennedy
We are quite naturally impatient in everything to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something unknown, something new.
And yet it is the law of all progress that it is made by passing through some stages of instability—
and that it may take a very long time.
—Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, SJ
Above: Balance building over time.
Life is like a long, meandering bike ride.
It features the same rider, but different saddles and sets of wheels.
First there are three wheels, then four, then two.
We all start on the tricycle, learn with training wheels, and journey with the bicycle.
We all pedal at our own pace and, at some point, we stop and get off.
The training wheels are key.
They are the bridge and the bond—the catalyst and the connection—the intermediary that helps us get our balance as we move more quickly.
And yet, they must come off. Every bird must fall from its nest.
We were all meant to ride on two wheels—it’s the only way to hit top speed.
The timing is imprecise, balance is in the eyes of the beholdee.
If removed too soon, we kill confidence. We ride wobbly.
If removed too late, we are forever stunted. We play it safe.
If done just right, it’s like touching the sky. We just fly.
Sure, there will be bumps and ruts.
We all fall off once in a while.
Some let that stop them.
They mindlessly coast and barely pedal.
Don’t.
To keep our balance, we must keep moving forward.
Backpedaling serves no purpose but for braking.
Life is all forward motion.
It’s not what you’ve done, but what you’re doing now, what you’re doing next.
You control so much more than you think.
So pedal, pedal, and pedal some more.
Marry stability and speed in one swift motion.
When you feel the sun shining, the wind flapping, your legs pumping, your thighs burning, and your eyes tearing, you’ll hit top speed and know God.
And that will make all the difference.