Despite being kept awake late Friday by fireworks exploding all around me, I still managed to get up Saturday morning and explore the new “Cycle Thru” exhibit at the Cincinnati Art Museum. It’s a celebration of the art of the bicycle—and yes, it even included Pee Wee Herman’s bike from Pee Wee’s Big Adventure. (Many of you are probably too young to remember that movie, and now I feel ancient.)
As I wandered through the exhibit, I was struck by how much these bikes had to say about more than transportation. They seemed to speak to balance, momentum, and what it takes to keep moving forward in life. Three of them especially caught my attention.
🧺 Be more, do less
This wicker bike wasn’t designed for speed or utility. Honestly, I wouldn’t trust it to survive a ride down my alley. But it’s beautiful. It’s art. It exists for no other reason than to be seen and appreciated—and maybe that’s enough.
I often use the phrase “be more, do less” in my counseling sessions, and it always means something different for everyone. For some, it’s about slowing down and realizing you don’t have to earn your worth through productivity. For others, it’s about resisting the urge to fill every quiet moment with busywork. And for still others, it’s about learning how to tolerate the anxiety that quiet can bring. The wicker bike embodies this perfectly. It reminds us that sometimes our value comes not from what we do, but from who we are. That maybe form over function is OK. That it’s fine to look at something in appreciation without needing to find it useful.
And maybe that’s the hardest lesson of all. We’re so conditioned to measure our days by checkboxes and accomplishments that simply existing feels uncomfortable. But what if part of good mental health is giving yourself permission to not produce, not perform, not hustle? To just… be. Like the wicker bike, unapologetically taking up space in all its impractical beauty.
❄️ Focus on what you can control
Then there’s this ice bike, modified with a ski up front and spikes in the back. It doesn’t waste energy wishing for better weather—it adapts. It changes what it can control so it can keep moving through what it can’t.
That feels especially relevant lately. We can’t control everything happening around us, but we can change how we respond. For me, that’s meant cutting back on dining out as part of a larger budget overhaul. It felt awkward at first—like riding with a ski instead of a wheel—but now I’m already seeing results in my bank account. Small modifications, big momentum.
It’s easy to get stuck focusing on what we wish would change: other people, circumstances, entire systems. And while some things really do require advocacy and action, most of us also need reminders to shift our gaze inward. What can I change? What small adjustment might give me just enough grip to keep moving? The ice bike doesn’t conquer the snow—it cooperates with it.
Maybe for you, it’s setting a boundary with someone who drains your energy. Or finally tackling that cluttered room that’s been weighing on your mind. Or choosing to walk away from arguments that aren’t worth having. Progress doesn’t always mean flying down the road at top speed. Sometimes it’s about finding traction on the ice.
🚲 Find your Pee Wee bike
And then there’s Pee Wee’s bike. In Big Adventure, it wasn’t just a bike. It was his purpose. Losing it sent him on a ridiculous cross-country journey filled with absurdity, growth, and unexpected friendships. That’s what purpose does—it pulls us forward, even when life gets weird.
It’s easy to lose sight of what we’re pedaling for. We get so caught up in surviving, adapting, or “being productive” that we forget to enjoy the ride. Life isn’t just about staying upright. It’s also about knowing why you’re on the bike in the first place. What gives you delight, freedom, and a reason to keep pedaling?
And if you don’t know yet? That’s okay too. Maybe part of the journey is rediscovering it. Pee Wee’s quest wasn’t just about the bike—it was about what he learned along the way. Sometimes our purpose finds us in the detours, the flat tires, and the strange cast of characters we meet.
This week, as you navigate whatever terrain you’re facing, maybe take a cue from these bikes:
✔️ Be more and do less when you can.
✔️ Adapt what’s in your control when you must.
✔️ And never lose sight of what makes the ride worth it.
At its core, riding a bike is about balance. And balance isn’t about perfection—it’s about staying in motion.
This content is for educational and entertainment purposes and is not a substitute for therapy. If you need to talk to someone, visit PsychologyToday.com or any reputable online therapy platform to find support.
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