When I drove home from work today, and the wind attempted to push my Chevy Tracker (which is unfortunately shaped much like a box kite) off the Sherman Minton Bridge, it occurred to me that I don’t think I’ve ever told you about bridges.
I’m horribly afraid of bridges.
When I was about four or five years old, we went to See Rock City and Ruby Falls in Chattanooga, Tennessee. If you’ve never been there, it’s a pair of tourist attractions in the Smoky Mountains. There’s a swinging rope bridge over a pretty deep canyon–I watched my dad cross it. My overactive imagination went into overdrive, picturing a number of gruesome and unlikely outcomes. I was terrified of bridges after that.
I live in Indiana. I work in Kentucky.
You may have noticed the rather large river between the two?
By the time I learned to drive, I could cross bridges with my eyes open, sitting up in the seat (which certainly made driving over them easier).
I still grip the steering wheel so tightly, my knuckles turn white.
Five days a week. Twice a day.
Fear is a funny thing. If we let it, it can box us in. It can turn a river into a wall. It can turn difficulties into limits. It can contort our lives, shrink our dreams, and distort our perspective.
Fortunately, wherever there’s fear, there’s always a way past the fear. It doesn’t make the fear go away. It just makes it possible to get from where you are to where you need to be. It keeps the fear from stopping you.
So as we all go barreling heedlessly into the weekend, lets take a minute to consider what ways fear is running between you and your dreams, and what might make a good bridge to get past the fear.
Chime in on the comments if you feel like sharing.