Sometimes in life, you have to take risks. I’m not talking gamble-your-house-away type of risks. I mean more along the lines of those feel-the-fear-and-do-it-anyway kind of things.
I’ve always been a brilliant ‘but what if-er’ – I mean seriously good. I can “but what if..?” scenarios that would never cross the average (and by ‘average’ I mean ‘normal’) person’s mind. Give me a situation and I’ll throw 10 ‘but what if’s’ back atcha. And I have to admit that my ‘what if’s’ have probably stopped me doing things or pursing dreams in the past.
My mum was always my greatest cheerleader and the antidote to my cautious nature. She was more of a ‘so what-er?’ and her courage and determination made me feel like I could do anything. The ‘but what if’s’ didn’t matter and with great risk comes great reward.
But then my beautiful, brave cheerleader passed away. And suddenly I was without my rock, my protector, my greatest fan. I missed everything about her but most of all I missed having those feelings of safety and reassurance, that only a mother can provide.
And then about two months ago I found this line from a poem (by Australian writer Eric Hanson) and it changed everything:
Now I don’t know if you believe in fate, but I definitely feel that I was meant to stumble upon these lines. I could hear my mum in every word, acknowledging my fears but giving me the courage to go ahead do it anyway. It quite literally clicked a switch inside me and I thought, “what if I really do fly?”
So the first big thing I did was start this blog. Was I nervous? Yes! What if no one wanted to read it? Or worse still, read it and thought it was rubbish? What if I actually had nothing to say? But I did it anyway. And I love it. I love writing, I love the interaction with readers and other bloggers, and I love the fact that I’m doing something my mum would be so proud of.
My next challenge? Photography. I’m getting a new camera for my birthday and yes, I’ve already had the “but what if I can’t use it?” and “what if I can’t understand all the techy bits?” conversations with myself. But then I hear her voice:
“Oh but my darling, what if you fly?”
She’s right – what if I do fly? And suddenly, instead of being daunted by the possibilities, they all seem rather exciting.