I glance behind me at the soft and welcoming dirt path I know so well. Its familiarity murmurs words of comfort, promising safety and gentleness. The worn trail mimics a lazy serpent, slowly wandering its way through lush grasses and stoic great Maples. Wasn’t this path intimidating at one time? I could see in the distance a hill I had once struggled with, but now only seems like a gentle slope.
Turning back, I gulp. Here it is…the cliff, I knew, that has been waiting for me. The winds blow strongly in agreement and I felt my body sway from their power. I was awestruck by this view-both appreciating the beauty and terrified.
I shuffle closer to the edge and peer down-hoping to see a net magically materialize by some divine helper…but if there was such a net, my limited sight failed to reveal it. “Must I?” I asked myself out loud, already knowing the answer.
The options are a lovely familiar path that I’ve already outgrown, or a brilliant leap of faith, promising new experiences. The comfort of safety is important and greatly desired in the Spring of one’s life, but now Summer was facing me dead-on and its heat vibrating with life was too great to ignore.
I close my eyes and allow one leg to hang over the edge, as if I would continue to walk onto an invisible bridge, but I quickly pull it back. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right.
I turn around and walk five yards back onto my old road and spin back once more to face the edge of the Earth as I knew it. Chills of anticipation and rightness wash over my body and I exhale, dropping as many limiting thoughts as possible.
“You can do this,” I tell myself. I begin running with the sound of my feet hitting the ground acting as a war drum….and then there was lovely silence, ready to be filled with sounds of the next phase of life.