3. You Can’t Cry While Riding a Bicycle

GISELLE:

While growing up, I was very fortunate to have a grandmother who was committed to helping me become my best. Many are the lessons I learned from her, but none is greater than the lesson that came on a hot summer day in my native land of Puerto Rico.

I am not sure if the major factor was being a nine-year-old, the incredible heat, my stubbornness, boredom or all of the above. Probably all of the above, but I had had it with everyone in the house. I was fighting with the family, whining and pouting about anything that came up and generally just looking for an argument. Of course it didn’t take long and I had found one and unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, I lost the argument and began to cry and pout.

No one could get me to stop crying. They tried to bribe me with treats and promises to be nice and everything else they could think of but to no avail. I wouldn’t stop and began to escalate my demonstration to even louder cries and more obnoxious screams. My grandmother watched patiently, as always, somehow hoping that someone would figure out the solution recognized by her from the beginning. After a long wait she finally arose from her chair, took me by the hand and walked me out to the garage.

I fought her most of the way complaining that I wanted to stay inside and I didn’t want to go with her. We walked through the cluttered garage and came to my rusting red bicycle. Grandma stopped and said nothing. I wasn’t sure what we were doing in the garage and why we were standing over my bicycle. I looked up into her large olive eyes and understood the silent command to get on the bike and ride.

I continued to sniff and tried to wipe away a few of the tears that were streaming down my face as I bent over, picked up my bike and started to ride down the dusty street. The further I rode, the more my tears subsided. I caught my breath and inhaled deeply as I picked up speed going down one of the many rolling hills in our neighborhood. The more I peddled, the better I felt. Before long I was whistling a tune and waving to my friends as I passed them on the street.

After a long and joyous ride, I pulled back up to the house to find grandma waiting for me on the front steps. I sat down beside her and she softly whispered,“Remember that you cannot cry while riding a bicycle.” I didn’t understand what she meant then, but today this principle is a driving force in my personal life and in our business.

To put grandma’s philosophy into some very simple terms,“You can’t be depressed when you are taking action.”“You cannot gripe or complain when you are working on your loftiest goals.” And,“You can’t be sad when you are looking for the good and