“Somebody ought to tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying. Then we might live life to the limit every minute of every day. Do it, I say, whatever you want to do, do it now.” — Michael Landon
Fear is such a powerful emotion. Gripping, clenching. I can feel it deep in the pit of my stomach. I stop, need to consider. Is this a moment I, quite literally, need to listen to my gut? Am I headed into something that is beyond my ability? Or instead, is this fear, this gnawing at my insides, just the by-product of doing something new?
I believe it’s just doing something new. I’ve felt this before. It’s stopped me at times. And other times, I walked through it. The one time I considered taking salsa lessons and turned back when I was a block away. That one time I went to a concert alone because it was a band I wanted to see.
I don’t want to be alone, to go alone. But, I also don’t want to sit at home, waiting, not doing.
I stalled, only hitting ‘purchase’ two weeks ago. Unable to make up my mind, dragging my feet, no one place resonating for me. No one place feeling great because deep down inside, I didn’t want to go alone.
There were the obvious fears. What if something happens to my bike? I don’t know the first thing about bike repair. (Not true – I can probably change my tire. And I have a vague sense of those two screws on my dérailleur and what they do. But…. other than that… not so much). And the cougars. Largest population of mountain lions in North America? Vancouver island. Where I’m going.
I want someone with me, who can fix my bike – or if not fix it, be a problem solver with me, someone who can rescue me, who can keep me company.
But, at the same time, I want to go out there and find out… find out what happens when something doesn’t go exactly right, find out what happens when I feel scared. I crave that adventure, and I want to know that I am not just craving it as an idea – but really truly as a real live thing, to be deep in that moment.