No Age for Learning

There is no age for learning and no age for teaching. As a mother, I teach my children many things, but being with them, I learn much more.

As the year drew to an end and my birthday loomed on the horizon, I noticed feeling a kind of restlessness. I felt like I was doing too little. Maybe it was due to the restricted way in which we had lived this past year or maybe some deeper dissatisfaction. Though I had tried to justify the time I spent in the kitchen by increasing my cooking repertoire in a big way and even baking my own sour dough bread, it just wasn’t enough. I was itching for a challenge.

All around me, people had taken up cycling; my city had suddenly developed an outdoor culture during the lockdown. The wonderful park where I walk everyday was teeming with cyclists of all ages.  My husband and daughter bought new bicycles and joined in the trend. I had not learned to cycle as a child and it seemed impossible to learn now. My son, who had learnt to cycle at the age of six but hadn’t cycled in a couple of years, somehow refused to get on his bicycle. This bothered me as I really wanted him to rediscover his love for cycling. Especially now, when he had been home bound and tied to the screen for virtual school and much else, I wanted him to find an outdoor activity that he could enjoy. Many a times, a thought came to my mind – “if only I could cycle, I would help him get over his hesitation”.

One day while walking in the park, a family of four cycled past me. They were cycling, chatting and clearly having a great time. Something clicked at that moment and I made up my mind to learn to cycle. This seemed like the perfect challenge to pour out all my restless energy and I was up for it. The husband readily agreed to coach me, and on a cold December morning, we made our way to the park. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. I knew I had to learn quickly and not give myself a chance to back out. How could I quit something because it felt hard while my children watched?

Every day, I came back home and reported my progress to my children, including the frustrating moments when I almost quit. There were enough such moments to test my husband’s patience but he was a saint all through. It also helped me see what my children must feel when they try to learn something new – the courage it must take for them to continue through the physical pain and mental frustration when they fall or fail at doing something hard. I took inspiration from their courage and kept at it. The perseverance paid off and I finally learnt to cycle. It was liberating to conquer a fear and brought such joy.

When the children next accompanied me to the park and I got on the bicycle to show off my newly acquired skill, they cheered me on. As soon as I got off the bicycle, my son got on it and rode away with a joy and lightness that I had missed seeing on him for some time.