Wearing red lipstick. Doing a handstand in yoga. Diving off the high-dive.
I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m not brave enough to do any of these things.
Even as a kid, I wasn’t ever what you would consider a risk-taker. You wouldn’t catch me peddling down the street on my bike waving my hands in the air or signing up for the school ski-trip. (Embarrassing confession #2 – I’ve never been downhill skiing.) I was always just happier playing it safe. Keeping both hands on the wheel.
And until now, I’ve been perfectly OK with my safe-seeking tendencies. Frankly, I think I’ve gotten along just fine. And with all of my bones still intact, thank you very much.
But (isn’t there always a but?), I’m starting to feel like a little bit of a hypocrite.
You see, I’ve got two year old twins at home who, like all other toddlers, are busy exploring their world. And while my son, who doesn’t seem to have a scaredy-cat bone in his body, will take on any challenge that comes his way; it’s his sister who digs in her heels when something seems scary or difficult to do. I want her to know that it’s OK to feel scared sometimes, but that it’s also important to be brave and try new things. I nudge her to go ahead and take that step or slide down that slide because I don’t want her to miss out on things. And seeing the joy in her eyes after she’s accomplished one of those challenges (that wasn’t so scary after all) leaves me beaming with pride.
Which gets me to thinking about all the things I’ve missed out on because I didn’t dare to try, all the unanswered challenges that would have bolstered my self-pride. Kinda makes me wish I had done differently. And makes me wonder what my courage-stores might look like now if I had only been building them up.
And so that’s my wish. To be brave. To try new things – even the scary ones. To be an example to my children of the value of courage.
The next time my yoga teacher asks us to get into handstand, I’m going give it a try. And if I fall down (which is very likely), I will try again. And I will keep trying until I get it because I know that I’ll never forget how great it feels to accomplish something that was once out of reach.
Contented Me is authored by the adorable and beyond sweet Chicago interior designer, Kristin. She always leaves comments or sends lovely emails that put an extra happy kick in my step. And oh how I wish I could be there for the moment she stands tall with her hands ~ it's one of the best feelings in the world! Go Kristin Go!