If we did all the things we are capable of doing, we would literally astound ourselves.
– Thomas Edison
This past Saturday morning at 11am, I was leaning backwards off the ledge circling the roof of the Patrick Henry Hotel in downtown Roanoke, Virginia, throwing horns from each of my outstretched hands. I’m not sure I’ll believe it until the photos come back.
Fear is visceral and irrational. Statistics say the drive to the rappel was a riskier endeavor than the 11-story slide down a rope that came after. Would that statistics could calm an activated limbic brain.
After these many weeks of fundraising for Big Brothers Big Sisters, these many weeks of trying to convince myself that I could take that step, that one step, from solid ground to thin air, it’s done. We did it.
Theresa, Sharon, Gabriel, Mike and I were among the many people who rappelled the 11 stories last weekend. Our crew celebrated with cupcakes (thank you Sharon and Delish!) along with my parents, some friends, and some more family.
The thought that has been tickling in the back of my brain since then has been: What’s the purpose of challenging ourselves in these ways, of confronting random fears and pushing at our own perceived limitations?
I think Theresa wrapped it up with a pretty little bow when she said her big takeaway from the experience was that she found she could do something even when she was pretty sure she couldn’t.
Ain’t that a mouthful?
So often, we’re looking for a sense of certainty before we leap into the unknown which, I suppose, is a contradiction because having the certainty we want would, by default, make the unknown known. Even when we’re pretty doggone positive we can do something, we often want a little more proof before we taste the pudding; to leap from pretty sure we can’t do something to trying anyway, that’s where we find the greater potential of ourselves and our lives.
The proof is in the pudding, my friends, and the pastry chef isn’t giving away free cups so we can test the wares before getting out our wallets. We must be willing to invest courage and time – and yes, sometimes money – in our own potential even though the investment is never, ever guaranteed.
Truth: I was positive I would freeze at the top when it was time to step off the ledge. It was the kindness and humor of the complete strangers doing the final equipment checks and instruction who helped me stay calm, and the many times I envisioned taking that one step, and the inertia of just going, doing, following through. It was the note I wrote myself and stashed in my pocket reminding me that I have, tucked away within me, twice as much courage as fear.
So do you.
Today, I think I’ll make a new note to hang for daily consideration, a question: What else am I pretty sure I can’t do?
Who knows how I might astound myself.