Get Rid of Your Training Wheels

Bicycle flickr

I often analogize my spiritual and personal development to swimming, an activity in which the improvement of technique is a life-long endeavor.  During the process of changing habitually incorrect strokes, my speed slows.  My body won’t follow my directives.  It continues to do what it has always done.  The coach will say, “you’re still windmilling” when I think I am gliding as instructed.

When I first begin to modify my way of swimming, it feels as though I am pulling through mud.  I quickly tire.  Unused muscles begin to hurt.  It’s not fun.  But I persist.  Consistency is key.  When I miss days of swimming, I don’t resume right where I left off.  I fall back to my previous set point.  The same thing that it takes to get to a goal is what you have to continue to maintain it.

I accept this fact with most endeavors.  I know that I must eat less and exercise more to lose weight and to maintain that loss.  To learn new skills, I have to study and repeatedly perform necessary functions and procedures until they become natural to me.  Yet, with life, I want change tomorrow.  I want perfection without practice.  I don’t want aches, pains, or setbacks.  I want spiritual muscles without having to do any strengthening exercises.

Many times I want someone to make things better, to make it all go away, and to tell me what to do and when to do it.  I want things to be ok right now without my having to do anything.  Where is my fairy godmother, my genie in the bottle?  Where is God?

The other day, I saw this boy on a little bicycle with training wheels.  His legs were long enough to keep him from falling.  He didn’t even need brakes.  All he had to do was put his feet down and he could stand.  Yet, he rode with assistance.  His helicopter mom closely followed him.

As I walked and watched the boy and his mom, the song “I’m Coming Out of My Comfort Zone” played on my iPod.  I thought, “This is where I am right now.  My life experiences are causing me to figure out how to remove my own clouds and my own negativity.  Giving that power to someone else is like having a helicopter mom.  It’s like using training wheels long past the time that they are necessary.

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