Do you remember that feeling when you first learned how to ride a bike? When your still yelling back at your parent NOT to let go, to hold on, because your just not quite ready to go it alone… only to turn around and realize you ARE doing it all by yourself…. That moment of sheer, exhilarating, terror where you jerk the handle bar, and ALMOST spill it completely, but somehow manage to regain composure and from that moment on lose ALL fear, and embrace the high?
I’ve been living that moment… The second BEFORE you get to embrace the high… for the last two months now, and the outlook for at least the next, oh I don’t know… Year or so… looks pretty much the same!
I’m not complaining… I’m reveling in it, because my eye is on the prize… that high, which is currently just out of my reach when I can say…”I’m doing it, I’m doing it”!!! The way I see it, people can fall into one of two categories… Those afraid they’ll fall when they realize they’re pushing their limits, so they decide to embrace the comfort of what is known…. and the group I fall into… SO addicted to the high that a few bumps and bruises along the way are only considered collateral damage.
When I think about all the change, and unknowns, Kevin and I have decided to embark on over the course of ONE summer, I do get a little (who am I kidding… a LOT) overwhelmed at times… What kind of crazy lunatic thinks its a good idea to have a baby, almost exactly the same time her husband is graduating, which undoubtedly will change the entire dynamic of our marriage, then decide to move 1500 miles away, to a place neither has ever been, in support of a position neither of us really know all that much about…. and then agree to manage all of the changing family dynamics, while holding down a career out of the 800 sq ft. abode where her two ankle biting, circus monkeys, will most assuredly sit quietly and play with their toys (yeah right!).
After re-reading that last paragraph, I’m not entirely sure a tiny handle bar jerk completely encapsulates that “moment” I said I was living…. I think a more accurate depiction would be: Yelling back to Mom or Dad to ‘hold on’, only to realize I was careening down a hill at 90 miles per hour, blind folded, without a helmet….
However, if a kid learned how to ride a bike THAT way, think about how much sweeter it would be to realize they had made it! (Let’s not bring in, the odds of that actually occurring, as noted in previous posts… I’m a hopeless optimist).
I’ll keep ya’ posted with the hill levels out, until then, here’s hoping the ‘collateral damage’ is kept to a minimum!