Children have no real innate fear. We should learn from them.
I was sitting on a hill in a park in Bristol, quite pleased with myself for being where few others were (most people were lying down on the flatter parts, enjoying the sun). Then, to my right, a young boy appeared. And then, his bother did too! They waited until their mother went around the hill and then, zooooom!! Ran right down the pretty steep slope. They had so much momentum, they would cross the path to partly climb the opposite hill before they could stop themselves.
And there was my head going 'oh, dear, oh, dear, careful...' But then I realised that, if they had thought they had to be careful, they would not have been able to run so safely, surefooted and upright. How often do we heed the warning, and mess up as a result?
Well, I don't know about you, but in my case, way too many. That's not to say I've spent my life as a hothouse plant, rather that sometimes I am aware I could have done so much more if only I had just ran down the slopes in front of me. Being careful is not bad, of course not; being too careful, however, is crippling. There are myriad things which can go wrong at any given moment, but living according to their dictates rather than our own passions is a recipe for mediocrity.
I'm trying to relearn to be brave enough to face the slope, feel the thrill, and nevertheless go for it. I might get a grazed knee, or maybe I won't.
How, but trying, can we know?
No comments:
Post a Comment