As long as I can remember I've been afraid of heights. My primary fear is falling...I do not want to feel the pain of falling off something high. But as time goes by, I fear it less and less because I learn more and more that the possibility of falling is really quite slim.
My fear of heights rapidly went away this fall when my family and I was on our west trip--out to the plains states! We were up high so many times out there...from high slopes to mighty cliffs overlooking the vast emptiness of the Great Plains.
And it was on that trip that I stepped to the edge of a dizzying drop in high winds (at least 50 or 60 mph) and looked out...and was not afraid. For the first time I felt the mighty freedom, saw the uncharted size of the American west. Felt the wind on my face, in my hair, and tugging at my clothes. I looked down, saw the drop several thousand feet down to a grassy plain...and I wasn't afraid.
In that moment, I feared nothing; just felt enormous freedom. My fear of heights isn't gone, but I hope to have lots of other dizzying moments...without fear. It was the first, but not the last. The start of an addiction to something I feared. A new frontier.
0 comments:
Post a Comment