How I learned to ride a bike
March 16, 2006 - Back to Journal
The way I learned to ride a bike is that I dreamed it first. This
was after several months of training wheels followed by a few failed
attempts of going up-and-down the drive on my blue girl's Schwinn, my
father's hand resting on the back of my seat to balance me so I would
"Not yet, not yet!" is the only thing I remember saying,
which meant, "Whatever you do, Dad, please don't let go, I'm not ready
yet." What was balance anyway, I wondered, how could I possibly learn
suspend myself on moving wheels? I despaired I would ever be able to
ride a two-wheeled vehicle when that night, I dreamed I could.
It is one of those dreams that I remember still in detail. The
image that floats to mind first when I think of it is a wet portrait of me in-motion painted
in pastels: but the key is in what I am feeling in the dream, the
sensation of balancing as I ride my bike in the dream.
It was so strong
a feeling -- so convincing a "fact" -- that when I woke up the next day, I
ran downstairs, jumped on my "real" bike, and rode all over town. I never
experienced fear or hesitation again because I had already succeeded in my dream and remembered how it felt.