The Leap Into the Unknown

I fell recently and have a beauty of a bruise running down my arm. Honestly it’s been a long time since I’ve had an injury. There’s something about being an adult that makes you more cautious, lazy or scared—I’m not sure which. I also can’t recall the last time I tried to jump as high as possible or run as fast as the wind. My kids test their skills in these ways regularly, and they always want me to watch them do it. On a recent trip to the lake my eight-year-old jumped off a 35 foot rock into the water below. There was no audience-no peer pressure of any sort. He just did it because he wanted to. As I laid my arm down in a vat of ice I was mad that I didn’t have a cool story to go along with the injury. I lost my footing and slipped. I so wish that I had tried something hard that would somehow justify the injury—like a battle wound, proving my bravery. But now or in the future it’s unlikely that I’ll take a risk because there’s always pain involved. When you’re standing on a cliff, looking at the churning water below and you’re pumping your arms and taking deep breaths and working your way through the fear it’s painful. I watched my son go through it all before he finally decided that he was going to take the plunge. Then he stepped out and dropped into the unknown. The payoff came when he resurfaced and whooped for all he was worth. Victory in its purest form.


I’m not sure when I decided that pain needed to be avoided at all costs. I think life hands you some pretty convincing lessons in avoiding pain. But maybe I misunderstood the lesson because, watching my son’s face it was obvious that the pain of fear and doubt was outweighed entirely by the joy of the jump.

It’s true confession time. I don’t expect a single person to read this blog—ever. I’m not amazingly insightful, a gifted storyteller, or famous so I’m under no illusions here. But I love to write and my biggest fear is that someone will read my writing and tell me that it stinks and that I should never write another sentence as long as I live. So posting my writing online is painful, but I have to get over the fear. Admittedly, an unknown unread blog isn’t much of a leap but after a lifetime of avoiding taking chances, it feels like a leap to me. Maybe knowing this will remind you that taking a chance maybe painful, but if I can do it then so can you. Here’s to the leap. Let me know how it feels when you resurface and you look up to realize that you made it. My bet is that there will be a lot of whooping involved.