Mastering the Monkey Bars

            I remember my first day of kindergarten- my first day of hanging up my jacket and storing my brand new Care Bears lunch box in my own, personal cubby hole.  I remember wearing my cool, new Velcro shoes and wearing a dress that my mama made just for me.  I had planned to face this day bravely. However, when mama said goodbye that first morning, I was sporting an attitude that could easily be translated into “I cannot cry. I cannot cry. I will not cry.”

            It wasn’t long, however, until I got lost in the amazement of a strange and beautiful world- a universe that had not been explored.  There were toys and books and circle time and other kids and trapper keepers. And, best of all, we had a whole hour of recess each day.

            The first recess was kind of awkward.  The first and second graders knew each other from the previous year so it was just this band of kindergarteners against the big, big world.  It amazed me that the “big kids” could swing their way across the monkey bars at maximum speed and without missing a beat. Some of those kids could even skip every other bar.  And suddenly, I set my first goal, my first matter of business in this, the beginning of my formal education.  I would be the first one in my class to master the monkey bars.

            And so, the year began.

            I found out quickly about blisters. Three days into the school year four little red marks displayed themselves on each of my palms.  And they hurt. And they seeped. And they begged for a break.  But there was no way that I was going to give up this early. So I kept swinging from bar to bar.  And one reach at a time, I conquered the monkey bars.

            I changed a little in those days and weeks and months that followed.  After the first time across, I began to build confidence.  At times, I would go across quickly to show my speed and at other times, I would go slowly to show my strength.  Sometimes, I pretended that I was a real monkey.

            My hands began to change as well. I no longer had oozing blisters- I now had tough calluses on my whole palm. And for awhile, there was nothing in the world that I could not do. 

            Eventually, I learned that life is a lot like monkey bars and the formation of blisters. These are the things I learned:

1.      All through life we will set goals. And the goals that are most important to us get the most attention.

2.      We will all get blisters, scars and battle wounds.  We have to remember that even when the blisters hurt like hell, you can’t have calluses until you have blisters.

3.      Sometimes, we are going along just fine but then our hands get slippery and we lose our grip. We have to start over even when we try and fail and try again.

4.      Sometimes, other kids laugh at you. It’s ok. Just focus and keep your head in the game. Suck it up and keep moving.

5.      Respect the ones who have already accomplished the goal.  Take their advice but also learn to cross the bars “free style.”

6.      Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.

7.      Finally, when you reach the farthest bar and land safely on the other side- Be proud of yourself and CELEBRATE.

I know that these steps aren’t comprehensive and that there are other factors and variables and paradigms that cannot be accounted for. There are at least a few exceptions. And I believe that Robert Fulghum created a more complete list of ways that kindergarten and life intersect. However, I guess the purpose of this essay is just to say that like pain, blisters are not bad. They turn into calluses making you strong and tough and resilient.  They build confidence and teach lessons. But most importantly, they make you stand a little taller and be a little bolder just like I was on my first day of first grade when I proudly showed the new kindergarteners my rough, callused hands.