Fear of Falling

Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. -Helen Keller

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Early on Sunday morning, clutching a go-mug of lukewarm tea like a still-drowsy toddler not quite ready to relinquish their blanket, I showed up at the arena like a good aunt to watch my nephew's 8 am hockey practise. My brother-in-law and I stood and watched, chuckling every once in a while at the zealous efforts of the four to seven year-olds. Not many words were exchanged - too early in the morning, at least for me - for that.

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Just staying upright on their skates was an accomplishment for these kids, and many times, I saw one of them lose their footing as if someone had pulled a rug out from under them, and land on their backsides, looking surprised as if wondering whatever in the world had happened. Shooting practise was multi-tasking... create some forward momentum, control it, and use that awkward stick to somehow guide a small black slidey thing toward a net, where the goalie is steeling himself to be plowed through unless the forward momentum is redirected. More than once, in their enthusiasm for scoring, a wobbly seven year-old took a swing, connected with the puck, sending it hurtling (in slow motion) into the net, only to find that they had so fully committed their body's momentum to taking the shot that they had, again, landed themselves on their sorry rears.

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In the course of forty minutes, I am certain that I witnessed upward of 200 falls had by the six players on the ice. Each time, they picked themselves up and tried again. No hanging onto the boards, no crying or quitting or sulking or self-doubt. Fall, up, fall, up, skate, shoot, fall, up...

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Failure scares me. There's nothing like the fear of falling to send me straight to the boards or back to the locker room, because of the dreadful possibility that my feet may slide out from under me.

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When did I forget how to fall and get up again? Somewhere along the line, I lost sight of what it means to risk, fail, and get off my bruised behind to try again. And when I lose sight of this, I lose the joy of playing the game.

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When you fall, get up. When your team mate falls, help them up. Relax. Have a little patience - life isn't a test to be perfected, but a game to be played. Staying upright isn't the point of the game - playing is. Learn to enjoy the game. Falling is part of playing. Laugh. Play.

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That's where God met me this weekend.