An annoying realization

Now I remember -- I'm a wimp.

All these years I think I'd forgotten that or moved on from it or put it in my past or something.

But just today I remembered junior high and the gymnastics unit. To get a passing grade you had to walk across the balance beam. You know balance beams -- those things four-some feet off the ground that the Olympians do somersaults and flips on? I just had to walk across and I was so petrified that I had the entire class stand around and move along the beam with me to catch me if I fell.

I'd forgotten that in all the years of hiking up mountainsides and riding on ski lifts.

But now I remember.

Because I'm feeling wimpy again.

Everybody in my family is certifying for scuba diving and I just simply cannot do that. Possible reasons: 1 -- I love air too much to be so far from it and depend on a gadget for it. 2 -- The power of the ocean has been known to intimidate me when it's taken me places I haven't wanted to go. 3 -- Snorkeling out beyond the reef freaks me out because looking at the drop to deeper ocean makes me think of falling. 4 -- Deep and dark is way out of my comfort zone. 5 -- Sharks. Or eels or tiger fish or stingrays.

Add it all together and you'll find me sitting home once a week waiting for word that everyone survived the latest lesson.

Second wimpy thing this year: Angel's Landing. Though I've hiked the incredible Zion trail twice, I refused to take my family there because of the 1,000-foot drop-offs in every direction. Now they're going on their own and loving it. I could no more hike that trail again than jump out of a plane with nothing but a sheet tied to ropes to break my fall -- something else they've also all done.

So how does one deal with this annoying realization?

The options:
First -- look to all the people in the world who are wimpier than I am.
Second -- look at all the people who don't get scared by doing dangerous things and figure something's wrong with them.
Third -- remember all the brave things I've done even when they were scary.
Fourth -- accept my limitations and be grateful for those who are different.

I think I'll do number 3:

-Had three more babies even after knowing what it was going to be like from the first time.
-Learned to ski and keep skiing even though there's speed and steep slopes involved.
-Stood in front of a classroom of 30 kids with knives and tried to teach them to make cinnamon rolls (see "Keep the kids away from the power tools" by Louise R. Shaw).
-Fought pornography and those behind it, as a spokesman for a statewide constitutional amendment in Oregon.
And, currently:
-Drive the freeways of Salt Lake City on a regular basis (see "Stereotyping" blog entry).
-Admit to my inadequacies in blog format to anyone who might stumble by.


I'm happy for everyone who can jump out of planes and into deep oceans. I'm happy that now I'm over 50 I can just do what I want and don't have to pass a unit in P.E. I'm glad for the things that I've done despite my fears. I'm glad for those who understand my limitations and love me anyway.
















(View from as far as I got on Angel's Landing)