Where the wheels are

A few times when I was growing up, my dad would take it upon himself to try to teach my mother how to drive.

He didn't get very far.

She had to get someone else to teach her.  He would get too impatient with her because he would instinctively know what was the right thing to do, and he couldn't find the words to communicate to her what he wanted or how to do something he thought was so simple.

Even after she learned how to drive - at least enough to get her license -  he would get frustrated with her.  One day, in exasperation, he half-sighed, half-groaned and told her, "You don't even know where the WHEELS are!"  To which she retorted, quick as a wink, "I do so!  They're under the car!  if they were on top of the car ... we'd have a problem!"

There are a couple of young people in the house who are learning to drive.  I know myself enough to know that I would be the way my father was, so I leave the teaching to hubby.  It's interesting though, to hear the conversations they have about how frustrating it is and how important it is to practice, practice and more practice to know exactly where the front of the car is, where the back is - and - you guessed it - where the wheels are!

It takes a lot of focused concentration to learn where the wheels are and what end is up.  Lots of hard work.  Eventually, driving will become second nature to these young folk and they will take their place on the public roads of Canada.  It's like learning anything.  It takes time to get used to something new, whether it's a new mattress, learning to drive, or learning a whole new lifestyle of serenity, courage and wisdom. Even with a lot of practice it sometimes feels like one step forward, two or three steps backward.  It's so easy to get discouraged and give up, to go back to the old comfort zone.  It's hard to keep trying to do things a new way - to exercise new muscles, to learn a new way to relate to people. It takes time and effort!

But the payoff is so worth it.