Except for my oldest son.
He has a sometimes crippling fear of heights. Even with clear boundaries that he knows will protect him from a fall, he will often keep his distance. When he was younger, even minor elevations could cause him to start shaking. So the thought of climbing to the summit of Chimney Rock at 2480 feet was downright terrifying.
But his sisters and his cousin and his dad and his grandfather and his aunt and his uncle were all making the climb and he wanted to be with them. And they all wanted him to be a part of the experience as well. So he made the choice to ignore his fears and climb to the top.
Later, when he was recalling his climb, he would tell us (and anyone else who would listen), "I forgot to freak out!"
His eyes were so focused on the goal that he forgot to be afraid.
We are currently accepting submissions for Not Afraid: Stories of Finding Significance and I would be thrilled if you would consider adding your voice to this project.
Have you ever experienced a moment when you realized that you were so engrossed in what you were doing, you forgot that you were supposed to be afraid?