Back on the Bike

Regular readers remember “Flamingo and Bicycle,” the January 26 Reflection that dealt with life balance. We contrasted balancing on one foot (flamingo) with balancing in motion (bicycle). The subject of balance comes up so often, that I am drawn again to the dilemma of staying upright in a changing world.

It begins with a trike. We learn as toddlers to pedal, avoid obstacles, and stop. The first two-wheeler challenges us to start, accelerate, slow, and stop without collapsing. Adult bikes have gears to power us smoothly on changing terrain. Tandem cycles promise that two can ride stronger than one. A cargo bike hauls the new trash can home from Walmart. Recumbents offer the comfort of an armchair on wheels. (I covet a recumbent!) Some recumbents, with three wheels, take us back to the beginning of our travels.

Why take this morning’s trip through the bicycle shop? Balance changes as the circumstances around and within us change. Life is like riding a bicycle through a changing landscape. We may long for a balance that worked in the past, or idealize the balance we envision ahead. In the process, we miss the chance enjoy the present by adapting today.

I was born early in the Baby Boom. Our generation is now hitting midlife head-on, confronting the need to re-balance our lives in myriad ways. Kids move out—and move back in, sometimes with kids of their own. We retire, or wish we could. We lose our jobs, and wish we hadn’t. Bodies change and new health issues arise. Parents need help. What does balance look like now, and how can we get some?

What roles and responsibilities are you balancing? How do you manage both to serve others and to restore your own reserves? Do you pay attention to all dimensions of wellness: physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual? How do you invest your time, money, passion, and energy? Does your bicycle need a trailer? A motor? A padded seat? A new paint job?

The journey from one life stage to another is rich and rewarding if we pay attention to balancing as we go. The alternative is to careen downhill, lose our brakes, blow a tire, and land in a heap, wondering what happened.

Until the next time, ride well.

Pam
www.wellbuddies.com