Deep Breaths

I use to have an extreme fear of heights. Wait, who am I kidding, heights still make me a bit uneasy. My palms get sweaty and I start to shake a bit, in fact I often get a bit dizzy when I am standing on some sort of precipice. Growing up this fear kept me from doing things that I would have otherwise jumped at. Roller coasters were a no-go, the sight of a ropes course or climbing wall made me sick to my stomach. Oh I found ways around facing the fear. Official bag holder while at an amusement park, group cheerleader at a youth retreat when everyone strapped in for the ropes course, picture taker at the climbing wall or cliff face. I was content to stand on the sidelines and let all the other crazies cheat death. Me, my feat were fully planted on the ground and I had reasoned my way into thinking that was the way I liked it.

That worked well for me until two opposing forces met head on. Oh both of these heavy weight champions were primed for a fight. In one corner was my hard-headedness that bloomed in full force as soon as I could walk and talk and never stopped developing. In the other corner sat my fear, deep seeded, dark, and fed lots of protein over the years it had grown strong and solid, a force to be reckoned with. When these two met in a battle it was a sight to see.

I think my fear got a healthy whoopin by my hardheadedness in the ropes course incident. See I was FAMOUS for being a wimp when it came to these. I had ducked and swerved so many times from being strapped into that whole diaper-harness-carbineer contraption that it was an art form. That all came to a head one summer in high school while at camp. I wanted to appear brave, well actually I just didn’t want to be the only girl in my teepee not doing the ropes course (again peer pressure can do so much) that I sucked it up and suited up ready to attack the course like a crying baby. I’m sure I shook the entire way. That is until a funny thing happened.

See my partner had neglected to tell me she was a freaked out as I was. So we got to this one part of the course where pipes veered away from and then back toward each other and all we had to hold on to were each other. I will admit I was scared to death, about to puke and die all at the same time. And then she just sat down on the platform and refused to go further. I almost started laughing. I was the one who was supposed to freak out, I was the one who was supposed to cry and stop and refuse to go any further. So there I was with my own fears ready to overwhlem me, my partner refusing to go forward, and here comes ol hardheadedness rearing to go.

I took a deep breath, looked at her in the eyes and from somewhere came “spider woman ropes course extraordinaire”. I pulled her to her feet and practically dragged her through the rest of the course. The best part was when our youth pastor/camp director came by after hearing about some girls getting stuck on the course (it happened more often than not). He actually laughed and told me that he thought it had to be me freaking out up there and not my partner.

The best part of this story is that the next summer there I was in the same predicament scared out of my self and going up again with a partner who seemed so confident on the ground and LOST IT up in the trees. I was back in the same position, pushing my fears aside and taking the lead.

That absolute fear of heights was soon conquered, oh I still get the stomach rumbling and sweaty palms on the first look down from a perch up high, but the jitters make it all the more fun.

Why am I taking you down this trip of memory lane?

I feel like I’m back in that same place once again, sweaty palms, nervous butterflies in my stomach, looking at this new and exciting thing that scares me half to death.

Am I willing to take a risk and step out into something new?

Am I ready to leave the comfort of the firm ground and start walking in the treetops?

Sometimes the only way to see the path ahead of us, is to leave the ground and head for the treetops where we get a better view.

Deep breaths.