Friends have a way of making everything right. In the two days ATB (After the Bike), three gifts appeared.
The first was from my pedometer friend, Steve. I had told his wife Nancy about the bike, and that evening they arrived with a an aqua-colored exercise ball, maybe 5' in diameter. "Cathe 3LB" it says on it. It's firm and squishy at the same time - tactilely satisfying. Steve knocked himself out showing me all the fun things you can do with it. I didn't say "But it's not a bike." I said, "How sweet! Thank you for thinking of me!" Then I amused them and myself by balancing it on my head.
The second was a gift of words from Wilda. She listened to my sad story, let me feel my feelings, and fed me chocolate at the end of a delicious birthday lunch. As she dropped me off she said, "I'm glad you don't have the bike anymore. Now you won't get hurt!" Leaving me to ponder if there isn't some place within myself that can hear the wisdom of her words.
The last was from Diana, an old seminary friend who lives in Spokane. The package held two good books, several clippings, and a card. When I called to thank her, she said, "I'm sorry it was late."
"No it wasn't, Diana," I said. "It was right on time." I told her the story of the bike and reminded her of the song lyrics she has ended the card with:
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
It's where the light gets in.
So here I am, standing in the light. Seeing the goodness all around. Remembering that the word possibility is the best one of all. I wonder what's next.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Letting Go
When things veer off course in life, most people do one of two things – they clench their fists and try harder or they open their fists and let go. I was brought up to do the former – to hang on tight and keep going - and I am in good company. Most thrivers and achievers do the same.
On the other hand, when you have given something your best shot and things haven’t worked out, it may be time to just let go with as much grace and good nature as possible.
Sometimes it actually feels good to unclench that fist. Try it right now. Clench your fist and hold it! Squeeze tighter! You can do it! Harder! Harder!
Now let it go. Breathe. Relax your shoulders. Wiggle you head from side to side. Feels good, doesn’t it?
Sometimes I preach about this. Of course, the point is that when your fists are all knotted up and your face is set in one direction, there’s no room for the Holy Spirit to enter in.
The theme fits with Nicodemus who came to see Jesus by night (and then didn’t hear a word Jesus said) and with Peter (who thought he could walk across the water without keeping his gaze on his Master) and in plenty of other stories, too.
Today it fit for me. I really have wanted to ride my lovely little pink bike, and I actually managed to do it several times, and I love the idea of it and the way it feels to move through the air. . . But my doctor has told me that the continued tingling in my feet and legs is a sign (no, he didn’t say it was a sign from God) that it is not a good idea.
He said it nicely, “I do applaud your wanting to get more exercise and try a new thing, but maybe there’s another way to do it.” He let that sink in. “I’d hate to see you do any permanent damage. . .”
Kevin went with me to REI to take my beloved bike back. The clerk and the bike man were awfully kind when I couldn’t keep those tears from welling up in my eyes. I suppose my fists were pretty tight as I walked out of the store, and they have stayed that way all afternoon.
Now I am looking out at the ocean, and after I hit the Publish Post button, I am going to walk outside and gaze at this wonderful world God has made. Then I am going to open both hands and hold up them out to see how God fills them next.
On the other hand, when you have given something your best shot and things haven’t worked out, it may be time to just let go with as much grace and good nature as possible.
Sometimes it actually feels good to unclench that fist. Try it right now. Clench your fist and hold it! Squeeze tighter! You can do it! Harder! Harder!
Now let it go. Breathe. Relax your shoulders. Wiggle you head from side to side. Feels good, doesn’t it?
Sometimes I preach about this. Of course, the point is that when your fists are all knotted up and your face is set in one direction, there’s no room for the Holy Spirit to enter in.
The theme fits with Nicodemus who came to see Jesus by night (and then didn’t hear a word Jesus said) and with Peter (who thought he could walk across the water without keeping his gaze on his Master) and in plenty of other stories, too.
Today it fit for me. I really have wanted to ride my lovely little pink bike, and I actually managed to do it several times, and I love the idea of it and the way it feels to move through the air. . . But my doctor has told me that the continued tingling in my feet and legs is a sign (no, he didn’t say it was a sign from God) that it is not a good idea.
He said it nicely, “I do applaud your wanting to get more exercise and try a new thing, but maybe there’s another way to do it.” He let that sink in. “I’d hate to see you do any permanent damage. . .”
Kevin went with me to REI to take my beloved bike back. The clerk and the bike man were awfully kind when I couldn’t keep those tears from welling up in my eyes. I suppose my fists were pretty tight as I walked out of the store, and they have stayed that way all afternoon.
Now I am looking out at the ocean, and after I hit the Publish Post button, I am going to walk outside and gaze at this wonderful world God has made. Then I am going to open both hands and hold up them out to see how God fills them next.
Monday, October 5, 2009
The Odometer of Life
When my odometer rolled over to 569,400 I was somewhere on the road between Massachusetts and Maryland. The "vehicle" was this 65-year-old body. The number is 65x365x24 = hours I've been alive. If one hour = one mile, I'm a sturdy, reliable old engine, and I've had very few breakdowns, if I do say so myself.
A road trip with your husband, sister, and brother-in-law is not a bad way to celebrate a birthday. The miles roll by, with pleasant conversation and pretty views - interspersed with a few traffic jams and crazy drivers. Kind of like life itself.
We spent the night in a motel with a breath-taking view of the rolling hills of Pennsylvania. Dinner was at a chain called something like the Ground Round, and when I asked if they had wine, the waiter said, "Well, we have red, but not white." Odd, we thought.
When he served my cabernet sauvignon, the amount in the glass was a little skimpy. "That's all the cab we have," he said. "When you drink that, I'll bring you something else." Odder, we thought, but the Syrah he brought was just fine. Meanwhile, the others enjoyed their various adult beverages, too.
Kevin handed me the bill to check, and it was way too low. We pointed out to the waiter that he had not charged us for drinks. "Well, we can't because we don't have a liquor license any more. So we just give it away." Oddest, we thought. But kind of a cool birthday present on the road, and the waiter got a really big tip!
A road trip with your husband, sister, and brother-in-law is not a bad way to celebrate a birthday. The miles roll by, with pleasant conversation and pretty views - interspersed with a few traffic jams and crazy drivers. Kind of like life itself.
We spent the night in a motel with a breath-taking view of the rolling hills of Pennsylvania. Dinner was at a chain called something like the Ground Round, and when I asked if they had wine, the waiter said, "Well, we have red, but not white." Odd, we thought.
When he served my cabernet sauvignon, the amount in the glass was a little skimpy. "That's all the cab we have," he said. "When you drink that, I'll bring you something else." Odder, we thought, but the Syrah he brought was just fine. Meanwhile, the others enjoyed their various adult beverages, too.
Kevin handed me the bill to check, and it was way too low. We pointed out to the waiter that he had not charged us for drinks. "Well, we can't because we don't have a liquor license any more. So we just give it away." Oddest, we thought. But kind of a cool birthday present on the road, and the waiter got a really big tip!
* * * * *
As it turned out, my dear family in Maryland decided to make a fuss about my birthday. We gathered at my parents' farm, where everybody sang a clever song about how, "Walkers and handrails and new dental fittings" are now "a few of my favorite things. Thanks, guys! But they also presented me with a beautiful album with photos and sweet notes about who I am in their lives. There was even an hysterically funny video made in Europe by two of my ingenious nephews and one wife. And delicious food, and three kinds of cake baked by my older sister. And presents, too!
As I wrote to some of them later: "Thanks again for everything! Occasionally I open my wonderful album at random and read a little something. When I was telling Erik that it’s a little overwhelming to have so many nice things said about you all at once, he said, 'Sometimes you just have to take it.' So, I am happily ‘taking it.’ I do appreciate your finding good attributes to focus on, and I will try to live up to them. At least more often!!!"
As I wrote to some of them later: "Thanks again for everything! Occasionally I open my wonderful album at random and read a little something. When I was telling Erik that it’s a little overwhelming to have so many nice things said about you all at once, he said, 'Sometimes you just have to take it.' So, I am happily ‘taking it.’ I do appreciate your finding good attributes to focus on, and I will try to live up to them. At least more often!!!"
Sunday, October 4, 2009
How Way Leads on to Way
In his famous poem The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost pens the lovely and wise phrase, "Yet knowing how way leads on to way. . ."
Well, way has lead on to way for me since I bought my bike. Oh, I thought it would be simple: Buy a bike, then ride it. Turns out there's more to it than that.
As Jennie pointed out that fateful day, if you buy a bike, you need a few other things: a helmet, a safety vest, a bike rack for the car, and - just one more thing - a metal bar that fits on the bike so that the bike can fit on the rack that fits on the car. All those things take mastering! And I am not a thing kind of person.
I can, however, be a determined kind of person. So I have risked broken fingernails and frustration, and not only can I adjust my helmet with that little turny knob and fasten the strap, I also figured out how to get the black bar onto the bike, and glory hallelujah! I can also actually lift the bike and fasten it to the rack. This has taken quite a bit of doing, and I have a sense of satisfaction that I (who always ask my husband to do the hard things) am taking these things on.
But way continues to lead on to way, and I have decided what my tingling feet and legs need before they pedal my adorable pink bike again is to get stronger by riding a stationary bike. So Friday, I ventured to the Monterey Sports Center and with the help of a very patient young man named Sean, I have learned how to adjust all the moving parts on the several models of stationary bikes. Since I don't have the endurance to ride any of the bikes for very long, I ventured onto the treadmill and discovered that I quite like it! Now if you had told me I would ever want to use the machines at the Sports Center, I would have said you were crazy. But I'm quite looking forward to going again tomorrow.
I don't know what will happen next, but this is one surprising and fine adventure! To paraphrase Frost, "Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubt that I shall ever turn back."
Well, way has lead on to way for me since I bought my bike. Oh, I thought it would be simple: Buy a bike, then ride it. Turns out there's more to it than that.
As Jennie pointed out that fateful day, if you buy a bike, you need a few other things: a helmet, a safety vest, a bike rack for the car, and - just one more thing - a metal bar that fits on the bike so that the bike can fit on the rack that fits on the car. All those things take mastering! And I am not a thing kind of person.
I can, however, be a determined kind of person. So I have risked broken fingernails and frustration, and not only can I adjust my helmet with that little turny knob and fasten the strap, I also figured out how to get the black bar onto the bike, and glory hallelujah! I can also actually lift the bike and fasten it to the rack. This has taken quite a bit of doing, and I have a sense of satisfaction that I (who always ask my husband to do the hard things) am taking these things on.
But way continues to lead on to way, and I have decided what my tingling feet and legs need before they pedal my adorable pink bike again is to get stronger by riding a stationary bike. So Friday, I ventured to the Monterey Sports Center and with the help of a very patient young man named Sean, I have learned how to adjust all the moving parts on the several models of stationary bikes. Since I don't have the endurance to ride any of the bikes for very long, I ventured onto the treadmill and discovered that I quite like it! Now if you had told me I would ever want to use the machines at the Sports Center, I would have said you were crazy. But I'm quite looking forward to going again tomorrow.
I don't know what will happen next, but this is one surprising and fine adventure! To paraphrase Frost, "Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubt that I shall ever turn back."
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