I was not looking forward to getting up before dawn, piling on enough layers to handle 32˚ weather and climbing a mountain all by myself.
Which is exactly why I thought I should do it.
I was sort of surprised that I was nervous. I spent years traveling around the country by myself. But that was years ago, before the kids, and now I am less confident in my physical abilities.
The thing that sparked this idea to hike up a mountain was my fear of heights.
More specifically, my fear of falling off a cliff.
Six months ago I hiked around Bryce, Zion and the Grand Canyon National Parks. This phobia, which had been building since giving birth to my daughter, stopped me from doing a lot of fun things on our trip.
I didn’t go out on the ledge to take photos with my friends. During one photo op, I was so afraid that they were all going to end up blown off of the outcropping down into the Grand Canyon to their death that I left them and started the hike back down the trail. In my head I rehearsed the phone call I would have to make to their husbands.
Even in Las Vegas, where we had appetizers at the top of the Stratosphere, I didn’t join them one story up on the observation deck.
Watching Cirque de Soleil was torture. I was sure they would all fall to their deaths.
Lots of thoughts of death.
I was missing out on the fun because of a fear greater than the natural fear of heights that keeps us safe.
So last week I had a session with a coach who helps people with phobias and unconscious thoughts and beliefs. Thirty minutes later, I felt better about the idea of standing near the edge of a cliff, but I had no way to test it.
First, I thought to try YouTube videos. Before the coaching, it was too upsetting to watch someone at a precarious height even on television. I typed into YouTube, “scariest cliff ever.” I watched an hour of very dangerous hikes (BTW – China has the scariest places).
No problem. I felt no fear.
It was time to try the real thing.
I am proud to say that I stood close enough to the edge of the cliff today to make several strangers worried for me. It was an overlook where a woman had fallen to her death two years ago.
A woman warned me of that fact with a screeching voice and with pointing fingers and arched eyebrows. I nonchalantly said, “Oh yeah. I know.”
I was there to test my fear.
I stayed three feet from the edge.
And I moved slowly.
I haven’t lost my sensibility.
But I have lost my fear of falling off a cliff.
The only fear I had today was of someone noticing that my base layer of clothing was reminiscent of “more cowbell.”
I can live with that.
My microadventure today had all the earmarks of a hero’s journey.
I didn’t want to go, but I answered the call of adventure.
There were many times I wanted to go back, but I persevered.
I had helpers.
I had mentors. (Thanks to the sweet couple who made sure I was in a controlled slide down the rock past the sign that said, “Warning: death happens past this point.”)
I have become someone a little more brave.
Today pushed me out of my comfort zone.
And I am better for it.
Microadventures
You may think you don’t have the time or the money or the freedom to lead an adventurous life.
Well, that may be true with big, grand adventures.
But there are microadventures waiting right outside your door that take as little as an evening.
It’s about getting out of your comfort zone.
Stepping out of your rut.
Getting back to the old you.
The you without the stress.
Check out the Microadventure category on my blog to see my microadventures.
And I would love to hear about yours!
A lot of the stress around picking a college comes from the idea that there is one right college for your teen.
The stakes seem high. They have to pick the college that will set the course for their entire life.
Yikes!
In this episode, find out how to change the inner dialog from fear to confidence.
Quiet the inner fears long enough to hear your internal GPS.
I have an exercise to do that will feel like freedom to your teen’s brain.
And that means peace for everyone.