Sunday Morning Rides - 25th Edition

Live Your Children’s Childhood

Somehow I still remember the first time when I saw a road bike. A shining blue contraption on two wheels. It was my uncle Bernard’s new toy. Knowing my uncle, he must have been raving about it day and night. I told myself then, how could anyone ride this thing? It was so tall and flimsy and if I sat on it, my legs could hardly reach the pedals and the handle bar looked weird as if somebody made a mistake in fixing it the wrong way round. And then there was the pressing question of why only two wheels and not three? I clearly remember my uncle “B” lifting me up onto the saddle. I felt like 10ft off the ground, teetering like a spinning coin as it comes to the end of its uncertain outcome. I was as young as my son then.

Happiness is a journey, not a destination. Check. Never put off happiness for the sake of achievement. Check. Live your children’s childhood. Errrr… this one, I am still learning but it does not require an MBA, right? I will definitely miss my son’s inquisitiveness, my eldest daughter’s tit-for-tat temperament & my youngest daughter’s giggle. Very soon they all will inevitably be off building lives and families of their own. My children’s childhood will soon be a thing of the past and I will one day without a doubt, look back and feel melancholy, but I still have the time to vow never to regret.

I remember when I was young, my dad, sister & I would occasionally sneak off early Saturday mornings to go jogging just before the sun was above the horizon. The street lamp in front of our old house would still be shining. When I was young, I used to benchmark whether it is early or late in the day just by looking at that street lamp. Lights on, go to bed. Lights off, time to get up and out of bed. Most mornings when we start our jogging escapade, that street lamp would still be shining. It gave me a sense of mystique to be able to be up and about when that lamp was still shining. Anyway, we would savor the morning freshness as we jogged and walked through the neighbourhood. It’s amazing what you can discover early in the morning which could hardly be seen later in the day. Flightless birds walking briskly across the road only to scurry off into the bushes with our presence. Dew collecting on spider webs during the night, only to be seen sparkling like diamonds on a rolling stretch of grass as the sun’s rays were refracted onto them, giving false hopes to the unaware. Unfortunately, this experience, I have no recollection with my children, yet.

Maybe I should have at least helped my son onto the saddle of my bike instead of telling him off, every time he comes near. He loves to fiddle with the pedals. Crank the pedals, wheel will spin. Fun. More and more I realize that we have been conditioned by our past experiences that we fail to see the NOW of living our children’s childhood but jumped straight into the negative of what the future holds. In this case, fiddling with pedals, bike collapse, boy injured. No fun. But really I could hardly imagine the lifestyle of the person who created the expression “better to be safe than sorry”. Might as well die, right? Such irony. Have you ever wondered how when we were young, the sky was our limit; we dreamt of going to the moon and the funny thing was that, we actually believe we can. Then we grew up. Society tells us that this cannot be done, that cannot be done, this is not the right way, that is not the right way and then ultimately some idiot came in and created ISO. So now we have standards to conform to and if there were no standards how on earth do we know how or what to improve upon…. but that is another story. Sometimes it takes an eccentric to change society. If every one conforms to society, then there will be no progress. But I have digressed and my point is really, we need to get back to the NOW. The NOW that is telling us that happiness is a journey and the destination is secondary. The NOW that is telling us never to put off happiness for the sake of achievement. My happiness is living my children’s childhood (and of course to own a Ferrari). What is yours?

I feel like I am going bald soon, like Stephen Covey or Robin Sharma so I better stop this gibberish and leave it to the bald people. I leave you now with the story of Peter & the Magic Thread. I read this in one of Robin the bald Sharma’s books. Here goes.

Peter was a very lively little boy. Everybody loved him but he did have one weakness. Peter could never live in the moment. He had not learned to enjoy the process of life. When he was in school, he dreamed of being outside playing. When he was outside playing, he dreamed of his summer vacation. Peter constantly daydreamed, never taking the time to savor the special moments that filled his days. One morning Peter was walking in a forest (why does it always have to be a forest) near his home. Feeling tired, he decided to rest on a patch of grass and eventually dozed off. After only a few minutes of deep sleep, he heard someone calling his name. “Peter! Peter!” came the shrill voice from above. As he slowly opened his eyes, he was startled to see a striking woman standing above him. She must have been over a hundred yrs old and her snow-white hair (typical fairy tale) dangled well below her shoulders like a matted blanket of wool. In this woman’s wrinkled hand was a magical little ball with a hole in the center and out of the hole dangled a long, golden thread. “Peter” she said, “this is the thread of your life. If you pull the thread just a bit, an hr will pass in seconds. If you pull a little harder, whole days will pass in minutes. And if you pull with all your might, months – even years will pass by in days”. Peter grew very excited at this discovery. “I’d like to have it if I may?” he asked. The elderly woman quickly reached down and gave the ball with the magic thread to the young boy.

The next day, Peter was sitting in the classroom feeling restless and bored. Suddenly, he remembered his new toy. As he pulled a little bit of the golden thread, he quickly found himself at home, playing in his garden. Realizing the power of the magic thread, Peter soon grew tired of being a schoolboy and longed to be a teenager, with all the excitement that phase of life would bring. So again he pulled out the ball and pulled hard on the golden thread. Suddenly he was a teenager with a very pretty young girlfriend named Elise. But Peter still wasn’t content. He had never learned to enjoy the moment and to explore the simple wonders of the every stage of his life. Instead, he dreamed of being an adult. So again he pulled on the thread and many years whizzed by in an instant. Now he found he had been transformed into a middle-aged adult. Elise was now his wife and Peter was surrounded with a houseful of kids (Idiot! He missed the fun part). But Peter also noticed something else. His once jet black hair had started to turn gray. And his once youthful mother whom he loved so dearly had grown old & frail. Yet Peter still could not live in the moment. He had never learned to ‘live in the now’. So once again, he pulled on the magic thread and waited for the changes to appear. Peter now found that he was a ninety year old man. His thick dark hair had turned white as snow and his beautiful young wife Elise had also grown old and had passed away a few years earlier. His wonderful children had grown up and left home to lead lives of their own. For the first time in his entire life, Peter realized that he had not taken the time to embrace the wonders of living. He had never gone fishing with his kids or taken a moonlight stroll with Elise. He had never planted a garden or read those wonderful books his mother had loved to read. Instead, he had hurried through life, never resting to see all that was good along the way.

Peter became very sad at this discovery. He decided to go out to the forest where he used to walk as a boy to clear his head and warm his spirit. As he entered the forest, he noticed that the little saplings of his childhood had grown into mighty oaks. The forest itself had matured into a paradise of nature. He lay down on a small patch of grass and fell into a deep slumber. After only a minute, he heard someone calling out to him. “Peter! Peter!” cried the voice. He looked up in astonishment to see that it was none other than the old woman who had given him the ball with the magic golden thread many years earlier.

“How have you enjoyed my special gift?” she asked. Peter was direct in his reply. “At first it was fun but now I hate it. My whole life has passed before my eyes without giving me the chance to enjoy it. Sure, there would have been sad times as well as great times but I haven’t had the chance to experience either. I feel empty inside. I have missed the gift of living”. “You are very ungrateful,” said the old woman. “Still, I will give you one last wish”. Peter thought for an instant and then answered hastily. “I’d like to go back to being a schoolboy and live my life over again” (Not fair! We here will never get a second chance in life). He then returned to his deep sleep.

Again he heard someone calling his name and opened his eyes. “Who could it be this time?” he wondered. When he opened his eyes, he was absolutely delighted to see his mother standing over his bedside. She looked young, healthy and radiant. Peter realized that the strange woman of the forest had indeed granted his wish and he had returned to his former life. “Hurry up Peter. You sleep too much. Your dreams will make you late for school if you don’t get up right this minute,” his mother admonished. Needless to say, Peter dashed out of bed on this morning and began to live the way he had hoped. Peter went on to live a full life, one rich with delights, joys and triumphs, but it all started when he stopped sacrificing the present for the future and began to live for the moment.