Riding to work in a rickshaw this morning, I was reminded of my mother stomping the passenger-side floor of the car on her imaginary brake as I was learning to drive. It didn't do any good.
This morning, over every bump, pothole, sharp corner, and swerve to miss another vehicle - or pedestrian, or animal for that matter - I found myself squeezing my butt cheeks to brace for whatever might happen. Not that it would help.
In fact, it actually just made me roll around the rickshaw more. It would have been better to have just relaxed, and 'sat in the saddle', and as my niece is fond of saying, 'just roll with the punches.'
I chuckled at myself and thought, good life lesson.
This morning, over every bump, pothole, sharp corner, and swerve to miss another vehicle - or pedestrian, or animal for that matter - I found myself squeezing my butt cheeks to brace for whatever might happen. Not that it would help.
In fact, it actually just made me roll around the rickshaw more. It would have been better to have just relaxed, and 'sat in the saddle', and as my niece is fond of saying, 'just roll with the punches.'
I chuckled at myself and thought, good life lesson.
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