Bicycle Faith

I went mountain biking yesterday. I hadn't really ever been mountain biking. I had ridden down roads, streets, and even through vineyards, but never over a rocky, dusty trail. Sunday, I bravely embraced this new adventure. You see, I have a fear of speed and falling. Often, the first leads to the latter. So I knew that what I was about to embark on would require a little courage on my part.

Sure enough, when I came to the first dip--a short, steep decline down one side and a short, steep incline on the other--I came to a stop. I had to comtemplate whether this obstacle could be overcome and at what cost. I called out to Paul and said, "Okay. How do I do this? Any tricks?" His reply was simple. "Nope. Ride down without hitting the breaks so you have enough momentum to finish the hill." I took a deep breath. Exhale. I took another deep breath. "Are you sure I can do this?" I asked. "Yes!" Paul replied. "You can do this!" I stared at the dip and knew in my mind that this wasn't a big obstacle. My heart however, screamed, "Ahhhhhh!" I took another deep, lung bursting breath and shouted in my mind, "Just do it!" I pedaled quickly, steered straight, and rolled from one side to the other faster than my breath could exhale. "I did it!" I proudly proclaimed as I pedaled past Paul.

The rest of the journey I vanqueshed rocks, a river, and a couple more hills. The return trip required a different kind of bravery as I learned how to speed over rocky paths as we pedaled downhill. The concept of allowing my bike to pick up speed as I faced small stones and rocks was foreign to me. It goes against my every fiber as I naturally try to slow my life down when I accelerate in life.

When we arrived back at the car, my shoes soaking wet, dirt smeared across my calves, and a triumphant smile on my face, I realized that my mountain biking experience mirrors our experience with faith. As I faced each new challenge in my path, my inner mantra was similar. "Okay. I know I can do this," my mind calmly stated. "Are you sure?" my heart questioned. "Sure. All you have to do is pedal, steer straight, shift your weight properly, and you'll be fine," my mind replied. "Are you really, really sure?" my heart asked again. "You have all the skills. Now all you have to do is trust them and your bike and you'll make it," my mind said reassuringly. And she was right. When I trusted my abilities, I was successful. It was when I allowed my fear to creep in that I slowed down too much or swerved too far and was forced to stop.

To succeed, I needed faith--that my skills were sound and my bike sure. In the end, in order to move forward, it came down to faith. In life, it is the same. God asks us to have faith in both Him and the work He is doing in each of us. When choices in life or difficult things occur, we can either trust that the abilities and materials we are blessed with will see us through or not. The difference is that when we lose faith, that is most often when we fall.

Ripples

What we do matters. So often we believe that what we do goes unnoticed. Yet, most of the time, the little things are what affect those around us the most. Our actions explain who we are, make others feel good or bad, and can flip a good day into a dismal one or vice versa. A comment here, an action there MATTERS. Yet, so often, we feel that what we do or say isn't really all that important. I beg to differ. Try telling a child no or a homeless man yes. These words MEAN something. What we do and say are watched and weighed to such a degree that entire shows, blogs, and reputations are based on it. Words and actions are like tiny movements in water; they grow. We need to recognize this fact and use it; we must act and speak with care and purpose. Even then, we may fail.

The Value of a Compliment

I was recently thinking of the value of a compliment. Do we enjoy compliments because we are all narcissistic people with an immense compulsion to make everything all about number one? Maybe. Or is it that we are so insecure about our own abilities and self-worth that we must hear constant validation through the people around us? Sometimes. Or is it a means of creating connections through the realization that we share a similar taste for shoes or sports with someone else? Perhaps. The enjoyement we gain from a simple compliment may be for none of these reasons or it may be all of these reasons. Regardless of which reason in particular we enjoy hearing a bit of praise now and then, flattery has the incredible power to transform. It can whisk a frown into a beaming smile, ease the tension out of a knotted neck, or revolutionize a grumpy mood into a cheery disposition. Moreover, praise has the amazing tendency to mulitiply. One compliment can spur on hundreds through the snowball effect--once a person has been altered by a little flattery, it is more likely he or she will pass it on than to simply forget the gesture--or the repetition technique--once they speak a bit of praise, it becomes easier and easier to repeat the process. Thus, one tiny acclaim can effect a whole sphere of people. Besides, wouldn't it be nicer to live on a planet where people were positive and appreciative amid all the insanity of this world? I think so.

There IS such a thing as a stupid question...

After teaching for five years, I have discovered there is such a thing as a stupid question. As a student whom the yearbook decreed was known for saying, "I have a question" frequently in high school, I am all for curiosity and learning. It is within our human nature to yearn for knowledge. We see it in our desire to be "in the know" and when we can't resist a good piece of juicy gossip. However, as much as I encourage my young charges to explore and discover, I draw the line at stupid questions. Ridiculous, silly, or insignificant ones are fine, but downright dumb inqueries are not to be tolerated. One might wonder, "What is the definition of a stupid question?" And if you are one of those that want to avoid falling into the trap of asking these tedious queries, here it is: A stupid question is one that is so obvious that the inquirer can't be termed anything other than downright dense. You may be asking yourself, with alarm, what I mean exactly. Here are a few examples. If a person has just given you a set of directions, such as what page to turn to, and then you raise your hand, with complete innocence and wide-eyed wonderment, and ask, "What page?" that is a completely stupid question. If an individual performs the same task every day, such as using pen for every assignment, and then they turn around, in complete seriousness, and inquire, "Can I use a pencil?" that is a totally dumb question. If a person has the information right smack in front of their face, but hasn't taken the time or energy to look around, and asks with an air of earnestness, "What am I supposed to do?" then that is an absolutely and unconditionally stupid question. Please do yourself and everyone around you a favor, and take a moment or two before turning to the person next to you, and ask yourself, "Wait a minute, is this a stupid question?"

Purpose

Hi. I started this blog with the objective of putting my meditative musings in space and out of my head. They are just flights of fancy and nothing more. Little thoughts that I recognize may or may not have any value except that they came out of the swirling sea of ideas that is the chaos of my brain and therefore, should have just a fleeting chance of seeing some potential before they scurry back into oblivion. Enjoy!