You just might find you get what you need

I really wanted - needed - to go for a bike ride today, a long, hot one up the slow incline towards Hyalite canyon, a ride whose effort would exhaust me fantastically. I had it all planned out. And then a certain seven-year-old sidekick asked to come along.

We made it down our street before she announced that she didn't want to go too far, and definitely not uphill. Oh, I felt so frustrated, so attached to my plan, but I managed to soften my voice - if not my thinking - before responding to her pleas for a short spin. "Okay," I said, "you tell me when you want to be halfway done, and we'll turn around."

We veered onto a little side street, one I'd never noticed before. Before long, a dirt path emerged from the bushes on our right, and the next thing I knew, we were coasting down a dappled trail, my daughter whistling 'The hills are alive,' from The Sound of Music, and announcing that she loved me because I am "up for anything."

"You know what's the only thing that would make this perfect? A river next to us," she proclaimed. She couldn't see it from her vantage point, but the bike path was about to meet up with Sourdough Creek. A few strokes of the pedal later, she'd found the perfect swimming hole and was creeping through the forehead-high grass to slip in.

And I was parked on the path, definitely not pedaling, or sweating, or feeling wind fly by as I raced through the landscape. I'd like to say that it's easy for me to be flexible all the time, but it's really not. It's hard, like fist-pounding hard sometimes. Somehow though, I was able to let go of my own will and just be right there with Stella. Released from my stubborn attachment to my plan, I really saw her. And felt her 'floating peaceful and free above the trees,' which is how she says she feels here.

After she soaked her feet for a bit, we turned around and headed back home, chattering away. I could so easily have ridden beside her and, lost in my own thoughts and desires, missed the whole heart-achingly sweet thing. I'm sure I have a million times before. Today somehow, I was gifted the chance to get out of my head, and in the end, it turns out that what I needed was right there.