Bring It On

by Jean Marie Moffa
October 6, 2006

Anyone who knows me knows that mountain biking is not at all congruent with who I am, or what makes sense to me, or how I move in the world. But a couple weeks ago, I met Susan, a woman who is passionate about it, and as I was asking her about how she got into it and what makes her love it, she offered, on the spot, to take me and a friend out biking. How could I turn down this invitation to get a taste of an entirely different world? Before I knew it, I was on her son's bike, pedaling my way through the woods, attempting to maneuver my way around roots and stumps, patches of sand, down tight ridges, and up rocky hills. There was an interesting dialogue running in my head, the entire time--fear, nervousness and cheerleading, working my way through taking on the challenge, listening to my perceived limits, going past some, not taking on others. A couple 'spontaneous dismounts,' some laughter, some incredible frustration, more fear, and lots of bruises to show for it. How did I get on that trail, in the first place? What made me go so totally out of my comfort zone, to try to learn to move in a new way?

Our piano is a family heirloom. Rebuilt by the expert hands of my Italian immigrant grandfather, it found its way into my possession upon his death. I stopped practicing piano when I was in the third grade, trading the tears-at-the-bench for a violin. Like most adults I've met who've had the opportunity to learn piano during their childhoods, I regret that I stopped. Now with two daughters who have varying degrees of interest in the piano, I've decided that it's time to step up to our heritage. We have a family of pianos, and of pianists, and we are not going to drop the torch. I am now practicing piano almost everyday, after literally 14 years of having this piano in my daily life, untouched. What made me change my perspectives on this instrument? Why now?

Speaking French was the hook for me. I loved being able to communicate in a secret, enchantingly beautiful way. No one in my family could do it. It was just mine. That's what I felt in junior high, and that's what propelled me forward to continue it. Going to work in Normandy was the clincher--a crash course in fluency that brought near-native comprehension and speaking--a thrill I will never forget. Years of teaching French, and then slowly, but consistently, getting rusty. Raising my girls, not quite finding the time to pursue my fluency, letting something I loved slip through the cracks. It happens, despite the best of intentions. And so, a few weeks ago, I found nothing less than a burning desire to use my French again, to hear it, to let it roll off my tongue. Renewing a long-lapsed subscription to a great audio magazine (www.champs-elysees.com), lots of meandering on the web--French news sites, and a fueling daily French internet magazine read (www.french-word-a-day.com), even just finding a couple francophone XM music stations (XM 100 and 102)....I'm on my way, thinking and dreaming in French, again. Next, an avenue to find for speaking it often--and yes, some long-range plans for travels. But why now? What has got me connecting with all of this, just now?

On the way out of the museum yesterday, Mia said, "It's amazing what a little learning will do for you!" Mia and I are three weeks into a year-long training program to become docents at the Detroit Institute of Arts (www.dia.org). And the influx of new ideas and challenging thoughts and lessons is rocking our worlds. As we both sped out of the museum, two women on missions to get home to our kids before they got off the school bus, we couldn't help bubbling over at the thrill of our new situation, and speculating at its far-reaching effects.

For Mia, a freshly-engaged brain is making her daily chores much less draining. They just aren't as oppressive, now that there's something so much more interesting to focus on. I'm sure Mia has much more to say on all this--our mad dash to cars cut the conversation short--but her excited glow needed no explanation. It spoke volumes.

As for me, I can't help noticing that my forays out into new worlds, and lost worlds, have coincided with the classes at the DIA. While I've always thought myself to be a life-long learner, the demands of parenting so often take over, or at least crowd, my own explorations and passions. Signing on for a course like this one, that requires me to be out of the house--well of town, in fact--presents me with new, engaging ideas and fresh perspectives. And it's tremendously freeing. It's getting me so freed up, in fact, that my brain is craving more, and I'm finding ways to get it.

Careening down a root-strewn trail, perilously close to its--and my--edge; struggling to learn to read the bass clef, and make some music with it; pushing the gears of my brain to process and master the foreign words flying at me--these are thrilling moments. Why now?

"It's amazing what a little learning will do for you!"

You've got that right, sister. Bring it on.