Challenges

Yesterday my daughter and I headed out to our favorite hiking spot. It is fun because we never know just what trail we will take and sometimes we go exploring to see where the new ones we find go. We had just gotten to the end of our driveway when she trips and lands flat on her face on the pavement. I look down fumbling with my cell phone (I had been checking our time of departure), pull the dog away from her (our puppy exhibits the proper dog etiquette of playfully mauling anyone foolish enough to get down on the floor with her), offer her a hand up, brush her off, check the damage and then as she snuffles and composes herself we continue on our way. In less than a block she had forgotten all about it and gleefully ran off toward the trailhead.

Living with a toddler and a six year old this happens so often that I do not even blink an eye. You know they’re o.k. Sometimes we go through a little ritual that appeases the mental side into believing that, such as kissing it to make it better or applying a spray or bandage but truly we always know they are o.k. This is part of living with young children who are constantly pushing the limits of what they know how to do.

Pushing Limits

Children are always learning something new. On this same day right after the 2 mile hike we head out to pick my son up from the bus stop (I had been watching the time to make sure we would not be late). My son had been asking to ride his bike and the weather was now nice enough to honor that request so when we got him to the house his bike was waiting for him. My daughter, who received her first bike for her third birthday had not really been interested in it until she saw her brother with his. She wanted to ride too. We take her bike out to a level spot and she gets the pedals confused and breaks unintentionally. This in turn makes her pretty angry as she watches her brother fly down the street seemingly effortlessly. With dogged determination she keeps trying while I explain the one leg at a time approach and the waiting until the pedal crests the top before applying pressure on that side. She is not listening though, she is watching Sebastian down the street…riding with ease. After about five minutes of timing issues she is screaming with tears rolling down her face, yet she will not take a break, she will not try another bike, she will not slow down…she knows only one thing. She knows she will ride. So she screams. I let her have a try on a gentle slope and give her some space. She gets it once and I tell her so. Slowly she gets it a few more times. She was no expert when we left the scene but she had reached some success. It was painful and she suffered because learning and growth often involve pain.

Avoiding Pain

Watching my children tackle new skills I remember how hard won all of the skills we accomplished adults have acquired really are. I can remember doing just what my daughter was doing on the bike, trying until you get it, refusing to leave until you did, letting the feelings fly because it is such hard work to attain the skill. As children, this is life…everything is new but as adults we seem to get used to ‘knowing how’.

I wonder at this, because it seems like as an adult you should know how to do things and avoid that which you don’t know. Many people who are in a state of learning as adult try to learn in a way that strips it of its vitality. My daughter was learning in a way that frightens many adults whose own unprocessed fears spark when they witness this sort of thing. She was facing the guardians at the gate of acquiring this skill and calling them out, letting them know she was scared but that it did not matter. Here was the battle…raging and raw, stripped of pretenses and supposed-to-be’s…she was facing her demons.

The Cycle

Every new situation and challenge is a beginning. Every beginning is a symbolic death…it is the root of our deepest fears and a shadow that we must face. It is the terror of being vulnerable, the fear of our own power…the thing that drives us to face it is desire and longing. But the desire is really for those split off parts of ourselves that we have denied, through which we can be complete and free to love. This requires courage because where there is no courage there is no love. Love demands honesty which is frightening or it is pretense and vulnerability or it is hollow. It engages our deepest powers or it has none. When we step inside of the beginning we leave behind our pretenses, masks and roles because we cannot get through the door to face the challenge unless we drop all that we are carrying and step through as we really are. Once we cross the threshold the fear is gone and only the truth remains…there is nothing to fear, every beginning is an end and every end is a new beginning.

My children are courageous and loving…meeting their challenges in this manner. They remind me not to play it safe…not to go with what I know but to face my fears, plunge ahead, learn, love, enjoy the challenge…and trust the life force inherent in this process.