My eyes have recently witnessed the, not far off, miraculous as my five-year-old has finally got the hang of the simple joy that is riding a bike. What a milestone of childhood and a moment of liberation it is, travelling fast and fuss-free under your own power.

 

After some unsuccessful dilly-dallying in the park with her Mum and Dad, we signed her up to a course that promised quick results – and, sure enough, after a handful of sessions during which we made ourselves scarce, we returned to watch that eureka moment when she first took-off pedalling around the Scout Hall; equally as exhilarating to clap eyes on, in my opinion, as it is to be the one free-wheeling, care-free downhill.

 

It might’ve normally struck me how unequal it is that my kids come wide-eyed to so many new experiences, braving teachable heads and hearts whilst I’ve let at least a decade go past since adding any new life skills to the repertoire.

 

Except, I’d just spent a week living life as a novice, tackling snowy slopes with a pair of skis clipped to my feet. So, I could relate; recalling the jittery anticipation that loomed large as I psyched myself up for ‘beginners’ class on day 1.

 

Right before that trip, the priest Richard Rohr had dedicated a weeks’ worth of his daily newsletter to ‘the beginners mind’. I, in preparation, had lapped it up. But soon discovered that it's not the trying of new stuff he was endorsing (tricky enough as it is to work through each day’s to-do list) but that there’s something in the way a beginner looks at stuff, their approach, that’s praiseworthy. He wrote, “(the) Beginner’s mind is a readiness to always be in awe, to always be excited… (it’s) one’s mind before the hurts of life have made us cautious and self-protective.”

 

I know that adulting can zap me of the immediate delight and curiosity I see in my children; there’s an expectation that we’ve seen already rather than are ready to see anew… but that video on my phone - recorded for posterity - Rory propelling forward, wheels in motion, is a reminder for me to try to bring the humility and zest of a starter to my seen-before, done-before days.

Comment