How'd you get off the diving board?
Let's just say that I'm far more able to take physical risks than emotional ones. The fear is still profound. The reckless courage required still feels overwhelming even though I know the odds are pretty decent that I'll come out just fine. But it's different. Perhaps I've been practicing all my life for the real dangers--the emotional ones.
It started very young, when I learned to ride a bike at 5 and graduated immediately to riding with my feet on the handlebars and no hands. My father called me "blue lightning." I crashed a lot. Then he called me "bloody lightning." Somehow over the years I've managed to talk myself into doing scary things...convincing myself that I can face my fears. But really they have all been quite calculated risks, like going off the high dive (not long after that story, I learned to dive from it, then do double flips). Jumping and abseiling from high places, sailing in small boats on gale-ing seas (well, the gales weren't planned but are always there in potential, and often in reality), kayaking island to island across open water, skiing double-black diamonds, galloping bareback on high spirited horses through open fields. All these and more feel life-threatening when I'm doing them, but I feel little sense of accomplishment when I have survived. Perhaps because I know it will never be enough. Enough to prove I can face my real fears.
I've just had the insight (thank you--your question about the diving board did it) that perhaps the reason my body is now preventing me from doing any of the physical things I've always done is because it's time for me to confront the real risks that I've put off for all these years.
I think I'm going to copy this whole thread into my diary (that was such a good idea you had @
Bedbug...I'm stealing it). My memory gets so foggy that I want to go back and see what I've said and what others have said, but then I can't find things.
