The Fine Art of Bike Riding, Part One
“Two things only a man cannot hide, that he is drunk and that he is in love.”-Antiphanes
“Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true Happiness.”-Bertrand Russell
“Love never reasons but profusely gives, like a thoughtless prodigal, its all, and trembles lest it has done too little.”-Hannah More
“Love is shown in your deeds, not in your words.”-Fr. Jerome Cummings
Why the fine art of bike riding? Because according to many people the notion of moving on with your life when a relationship ends is like riding a bike. You just have to get back on and start pedaling. I suppose after that it’s just a question of muscle memory and balance, right?
Yeah. Right. I’ll get right on that.
Everything is always more complicated than it has to be, I think. Especially when you tend toward caution. I envy the ones who can throw themselves with complete abandon into any situation. It’s not me, that’s a certainty. Unless there are extremely extenuating circumstances I suspect I’ll never be called a man of action. More like a man of contemplation. Not that I think that’s a bad thing. It’s just…different.
So how do I do this? How do I move on from one monumental incident that completely changed me? Now and then I think I have a notion. Then I take a few steps and realize that I am headed in the wrong direction, looking toward the wrong horizon, thinking of the wrong person, dancing to the wrong tune or trying to adjust the view in all the wrong ways.
What am I talking about? I think the quotes above could be considered a proper hint. I am considering my world view more than anything else, but the subject comes up and demands a certain amount of my attention, regardless of my desire to ignore it.
I’m human. I make mistakes. Lord, I make a lot of them. Sometimes I even make the same mistakes repeatedly. Its not that I am not trying to learn from past errors, but rather that I hope for resolutions that simply aren’t meant to be.
And they say getting back on the bike is easy. It would be, but the damned obstacles are everywhere.
What will I do? I have no idea. I’ll keep on exercising. I know that much. I’ll try to stick to the diet, too. The progress may be slow, but so far it continues. That much in life has not let me down at least. Certain experiments work. Others do not. I head to the doctor’s office in a few weeks and we’ll see if I’ve actually managed to do more than rearrange the weight distribution this time around.
I have to wonder if I’m sabotaging myself.
I think about my actions at certain times and shake my head. The things I do should be signs of adolescence, not of any part of adulthood. Again, it’s all relative when you get right down to it. I am a long time away from anything that resembles looking for relationships. I remain uncertain about how to act, if I’m acting inappropriately and whether or not I should just become a hermit. It’s an easier proposition than taking risks, as I have said more than once. True, the rewards of a good relationship are substantial. But the risks? Well, the dangers of falling in love, as I have noted before, include the dangers of simply falling. I find that as I look at my life it’s rather easy to be afraid of heights.
On the subject of leaps of faith: Sometimes you leap and no one is there to catch you. Other times you look at the distance to that next possible safe spot and you hesitate. And you are lost. Maybe there will be more on that another time. I don’t know right now. I don’t know much of anything. That’s the point, isn’t it? Or is it? Once again I find there are more questions than there are answers.
Maybe the problem with faith is that it is not always rewarded. Or if it is, sometimes the rewards are not what we are expecting. Maybe the problem isn’t with faith so much as it is with anticipation. Again, it’s hard to say. This is a new territory for me. Faith is as unnerving a concept as there is when you get right down to it. I normally manage faith that I can get through whatever is coming my way, but there are seldom guarantees that I’ll get through the process unscathed. In my defense history has shown me that getting cut a few times happens whenever you reach beyond your comfort zone. Of course, as I’ve already said on a few occasions, I think that you have to get past the comfort zone; you have to strive for a little more, or risk stagnation. I think that’s a fate far worse than a few scratches or the occasional all out cut.
All of which is to say that I’m looking at this damned bicycle and I know it’s a one seater but it sure does look as big as a stretch limo from here. That said, I also know that I have no particular desire to spend the rest of my life alone. I may not be in a hurry-I find that rushing in this sort of territory doesn’t really appeal to me, even without looking at the endless list of pitfalls-but I will eventually have to climb on this here bike and give it a spin, even if it’s just to the end of the driveway the first few times.
All of this is theoretical, of course. There are remarkably few women who have caught my eye for more than a millisecond since Bonnie passed. I can name them on one hand, though I won’t. Of the ones I’ve found myself interested in, exactly none of them are currently available for consideration. They are in relationships with differing levels of commitment.
What was it Sammy Hagar said in his song? Oh yeah. All of the good ones are taken.
Which means that for the present I will continue to look at this here bike and kick the tires a few times. Maybe I’ll even hop on the seat and think about it for a while. But, really, I’m not in a hurry to get anywhere.
I just need to remember how to ride a bike.
That’s okay. Like I said I’m not really in a hurry, and like I also said, I am hardly a man of action. Contemplation, evaluation and consideration. They’ll do for now.
It is what it is.
“Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true Happiness.”-Bertrand Russell
“Love never reasons but profusely gives, like a thoughtless prodigal, its all, and trembles lest it has done too little.”-Hannah More
“Love is shown in your deeds, not in your words.”-Fr. Jerome Cummings
Why the fine art of bike riding? Because according to many people the notion of moving on with your life when a relationship ends is like riding a bike. You just have to get back on and start pedaling. I suppose after that it’s just a question of muscle memory and balance, right?
Yeah. Right. I’ll get right on that.
Everything is always more complicated than it has to be, I think. Especially when you tend toward caution. I envy the ones who can throw themselves with complete abandon into any situation. It’s not me, that’s a certainty. Unless there are extremely extenuating circumstances I suspect I’ll never be called a man of action. More like a man of contemplation. Not that I think that’s a bad thing. It’s just…different.
So how do I do this? How do I move on from one monumental incident that completely changed me? Now and then I think I have a notion. Then I take a few steps and realize that I am headed in the wrong direction, looking toward the wrong horizon, thinking of the wrong person, dancing to the wrong tune or trying to adjust the view in all the wrong ways.
What am I talking about? I think the quotes above could be considered a proper hint. I am considering my world view more than anything else, but the subject comes up and demands a certain amount of my attention, regardless of my desire to ignore it.
I’m human. I make mistakes. Lord, I make a lot of them. Sometimes I even make the same mistakes repeatedly. Its not that I am not trying to learn from past errors, but rather that I hope for resolutions that simply aren’t meant to be.
And they say getting back on the bike is easy. It would be, but the damned obstacles are everywhere.
What will I do? I have no idea. I’ll keep on exercising. I know that much. I’ll try to stick to the diet, too. The progress may be slow, but so far it continues. That much in life has not let me down at least. Certain experiments work. Others do not. I head to the doctor’s office in a few weeks and we’ll see if I’ve actually managed to do more than rearrange the weight distribution this time around.
I have to wonder if I’m sabotaging myself.
I think about my actions at certain times and shake my head. The things I do should be signs of adolescence, not of any part of adulthood. Again, it’s all relative when you get right down to it. I am a long time away from anything that resembles looking for relationships. I remain uncertain about how to act, if I’m acting inappropriately and whether or not I should just become a hermit. It’s an easier proposition than taking risks, as I have said more than once. True, the rewards of a good relationship are substantial. But the risks? Well, the dangers of falling in love, as I have noted before, include the dangers of simply falling. I find that as I look at my life it’s rather easy to be afraid of heights.
On the subject of leaps of faith: Sometimes you leap and no one is there to catch you. Other times you look at the distance to that next possible safe spot and you hesitate. And you are lost. Maybe there will be more on that another time. I don’t know right now. I don’t know much of anything. That’s the point, isn’t it? Or is it? Once again I find there are more questions than there are answers.
Maybe the problem with faith is that it is not always rewarded. Or if it is, sometimes the rewards are not what we are expecting. Maybe the problem isn’t with faith so much as it is with anticipation. Again, it’s hard to say. This is a new territory for me. Faith is as unnerving a concept as there is when you get right down to it. I normally manage faith that I can get through whatever is coming my way, but there are seldom guarantees that I’ll get through the process unscathed. In my defense history has shown me that getting cut a few times happens whenever you reach beyond your comfort zone. Of course, as I’ve already said on a few occasions, I think that you have to get past the comfort zone; you have to strive for a little more, or risk stagnation. I think that’s a fate far worse than a few scratches or the occasional all out cut.
All of which is to say that I’m looking at this damned bicycle and I know it’s a one seater but it sure does look as big as a stretch limo from here. That said, I also know that I have no particular desire to spend the rest of my life alone. I may not be in a hurry-I find that rushing in this sort of territory doesn’t really appeal to me, even without looking at the endless list of pitfalls-but I will eventually have to climb on this here bike and give it a spin, even if it’s just to the end of the driveway the first few times.
All of this is theoretical, of course. There are remarkably few women who have caught my eye for more than a millisecond since Bonnie passed. I can name them on one hand, though I won’t. Of the ones I’ve found myself interested in, exactly none of them are currently available for consideration. They are in relationships with differing levels of commitment.
What was it Sammy Hagar said in his song? Oh yeah. All of the good ones are taken.
Which means that for the present I will continue to look at this here bike and kick the tires a few times. Maybe I’ll even hop on the seat and think about it for a while. But, really, I’m not in a hurry to get anywhere.
I just need to remember how to ride a bike.
That’s okay. Like I said I’m not really in a hurry, and like I also said, I am hardly a man of action. Contemplation, evaluation and consideration. They’ll do for now.
It is what it is.