A long time ago, When women were painting the walls of the caves of Lascaux and Altamira, https://www.google.ie/webhp?sourceid=chrome-instant&ion=1&espv=2&ie=UTF-8#q=lascaux%20images, Man discovered the wheel and life took a turn for the better (if you lived on the plains) or maybe for the worst ( If you lived in the mountains)
If you place two wheels, one in front of the other at a standstill, they will fall over.
Add something (yourself for instance) to move them along and they will stay upright.
Basically its a kind of love affair where trust is the key, and where the wish of both parties is to move in the same direction.
A love affair where the wheels trust the human to keep them in motion, the human trusts the wheels not to fall over and if they keep this promise to each other throughout the journey they will both arrive virtually unscathed at the same destination.
I say unscathed as other things beyond your control may crop up, a puncture for example, a fly in ones eye, a scratch of a briar reaching out from the hedge to snag the unwary passer by, but dealing with these challenges as one, may often help to bring you even closer together.
Other than that, the simpleness of just adjusting to each others motion will allow you to move happily forward.
Its called bicycling.
If only human relationships were as straightforward.
My relationships have always been disastrous and while contemplating the success of the human and the wheel (known from herein as the bicyclist and the bicycle) I have come to the conclusion that its because I have never chosen or been chosen by a man who wants to go in the same direction as me.
Now this is not the fault of the man.
Nor is it my fault.
Its how life works.
Sometimes your mate does intend heading in the same direction as you initially, but after a while the wheels start to wobble as he considers your direction to be ludicrously dangerous or you consider his to be tediously boring and the bicycle comes to a halt, topples over and leaves both of you lying on the ground, wounded and swearing that you will never try ‘that’ again.
Of course it’s not long before the next set of wheels come around the corner and being of an optimistic and hopeful nature or just a bit slow at learning from your mistakes you agree to give it another go and wobble off dubiously together.
Does history repeat itself?
Of course there is also the possibility that a very suitable and same direction bicycle comes along but you miss them by a fraction of a second and so will never know of this ‘possibly perfect going in the same direction match’..
You were looking down when he was looking up,
or you were looking up when he was looking down,
You turned right when he went left or you cycled left when he pushed his bike to the right.
And you missed each other by that fraction.
And look there goes another one!
But you are distracted by something on your pedal!
Quick! Look up!
Too late! He is looking down (at his pedals)
Things happen (or don’t as the case might be) for a reason, so we are told.
Maybe I’m not meant to be with another human any more.
After all I’ve had a marriage, have my girls who are now grown with their own lives, have my grandchildren.
Maybe its just me and the yellow bicycle from now on, riding together into the sunset, keeping each other upright like a pair of old drunks.
But as we climb to the highest hill and I prop her against a rock and sit and look way down into the valley below, I see in the distance, a man, pushing his bicycle….in my direction…