It’s Just Like Riding a Bike

Remember when those training wheels first came off?

For me, I had a mix of thoughts like:

“Can I really do this?”

“What if I fall? How badly is it going to hurt?”

“I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like when I’m doing it right. How will I know?”

“What if I focus on the wrong things and keep crashing into them?”1

If only I knew then what a phenomenal metaphor this would be for trying anything new. Even when change is exciting and positive, I still find myself in a similar swirl of those thoughts. 

Having been through many situations that have stretched me before, this feeling is becoming more familiar, but each time I navigate a new challenge, I still have to work through the process. I do a 10-point check around my bike, make sure my helmet is securely fastened, and then pedal like hell—hoping to keep myself upright (or at least aim for a soft landing in a nearby bush).2 

There is this space between the familiar and the next step that feels daunting. That moment right before you lift your foot off the ground to place it on the pedal…the amount of trust it takes to raise that foot. The knowledge that you’ll be okay if you fall. That eventually, you’ll get it. That someday, you will be coasting down the path as if it’s second nature, and you won’t feel the same self-doubt when you raise your foot to the pedal anymore. You won’t even think about it. I try to channel that feeling when I face a new opportunity. Sometimes, it works…sometimes, it takes a little bit to get there.


As this restless feeling built, I put it out to the universe with the simple phrase, “I’m ready.” Little did I know quite how seriously the universe would take me. 


For months now, I’ve been playing around with the idea of doing something different in my professional life. The full-time corporate gig has never really fit who I am, and I have been feeling more and more restless as the months passed—wondering when the time would be right and how I would know when to take the leap. As this restless feeling built, I put it out to the universe with the simple phrase, “I’m ready.” Little did I know quite how seriously the universe would take me. 

To say that there’s uncertainty with the future of my current job is an understatement. Reflecting on the situation a few days ago, I heard the phrase, “You said you were ready,” and I had to smile. I did ask for it. And here it was. Asking me to trust myself and put my foot on the pedal.

The thing we can often forget is to lean on our community in these moments—people who have ridden this particular bike before. Those who want to lend a hand and hold onto the back of your seat until you’re finally confident enough for them to let go. I’m so grateful for the humans in my circle. The ones teaching me how to maneuver this new bike. The ones holding onto the seat for support. The ones cheering me on from the sidelines. 

This dream of mine will unlock so much I’ve been craving—freedom, flexibility, and the chance to craft a life that is well-lived and in full alignment with who I am. Is it a little scary? Sure. Does self-doubt sometimes creep in? You bet. Is that going to stop me? Not a chance. 

(Would it have stopped me 3 years ago? Probably. 5 years ago? Most certainly.)

I share all of this to say: we all have our own process and timing. If you’re feeling stuck or frustrated that fear is holding you back from where you want to go, I get it. I’ve been there. And honestly, I still grapple with it. The in-between stage of anything can feel paralyzing. We all have those moments where we’re faced with the decision to put our foot on the pedal or to play it safe and keep both rooted firmly to the ground. In this next phase of life, my intention is to pick my foot up more times than not and to start believing in myself more than I ever have before. Working through that self-doubt is no longer a “nice to have”…it’s a requirement—and it’s a battle I’m willing to keep waging because the prize is a life that feels like I’m no longer trying to shove a round peg in a square hole.


Lao Tzu said, “When I let go of what I am,
I become what I might be.”


I’ve had to say farewell to many different versions of myself over the last few years, and while painful, it has absolutely been worth it. With every shedding of a past self, I feel one step closer to the soul of who I really am. This is the light I always find on the other side of the difficult feelings that come when saying goodbye to a former version. 

As I prepare to step into this next chapter, I know I’ll see those familiar friends I’d rather not: self-doubt, grief, fear…but I am also buoyed up by the knowledge that I’m walking toward some other friends as well: joy, alignment, exhilaration, and contentment. Lao Tzu said, “When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.” When I feel myself hesitate in that liminal place, I remember those words and let them gently push me forward.

As we let go of those parts of ourselves that are no longer serving our deepest purpose, we can find inspiration in all kinds of places. We can remind ourselves that even though the specifics of the situation might be different from others we’ve previously navigated, we’ve done this before. We can put our feet on those pedals and give it a go. We might wobble a bit. We might even fall a few times. But before we know it, we’ll be flying down a trail somewhere with the breeze on our faces and a strong sense of peace planted firmly in our hearts. And who knows? In doing so, we might also encourage others to grab a bike they’ve been wanting to ride, but haven’t yet plucked up the courage to try.

If anyone else wants to join me, it’s time to hit the trail. Let’s ride.


1 Simon Sinek talks about how important it is to focus on the path rather than the trees. This scene from Frasier also highlights this importance in a slightly more comical way. Bonus? The scene also involves bikes. #fullcircle

2 “Taking on a challenge is a lot like riding a horse, isn’t it? If you’re comfortable while you’re doing it, you’re probably doing it wrong.” – Ted Lasso