The Blink

So, we went for a bike ride this week. My eldest child and I.It’s tricky being the eldest. I’m one. I’m married to one. I come from one. And so I have really tried to play down the reliable, responsible, perfectionist within my eldest’s innate being. All these aspects seeming to go hand-in-hand with her birth right of being number 1.

Because, you know, she’s just so natural at being my little helper. That sometimes I forget she’s just a kid.

My eldest is the kind of child butterflies land on. Some may think she’s a wee bit of a space cadet as she lounges regularly on the couch of her imagination and dreamily drifts from point to point.

Makes for a slow bike ride.

I rarely sit, have a busy energy to burn and am a little more focus driven as I move from point to point.

Makes for a speedy bike ride.

Once we hit the bends path, I was regularly stopping to wait for my dreaming eldest to catch up to me. Each time she did, there was a running commentary on what she had seen, how she had found it and extra dog poo bags.

After seemingly the 100th pause on our journey, I really stopped. I looked back to watch my eldest with my deepest eyes.

And there she was.

So small. So blonde. All arms and legs. More helmut than head. Feet on high rotation with a peddling fury to balance off her training wheels.

I had blinked and she was 3 years old again.

After another blink, she was 8.

It happened so fast. That blink. Those 5 years. She had taken off her training wheels, grown into her helmut and chosen her own speed to pedal.

A kinda different speed to mine.

Sometimes you have to watch what you have from a distance to see what you really have.

With your deepest eyes.

Think inversions, palming and trataka.

Our smalls can be our greatest teachers. Constantly challenging us to front up to ourselves and reach out beyond ourselves. As we mindfully let go, we allow for life to follow a rhythm and speed of it’s own. And allow for the inner voice to feel the courage to be heard.

Clearly.

At the Dunes, we finished our hot chocolates but couldn’t quite fit in the rest of the shared chocolate mud muffin. So we wrapped the rest in a dog poo bag. To save for later.

And pedalled home.

Together.

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