Afraid to Fall

The ice has a deceptive beauty. Her persuasive sheen bids me, “Come!” Yet, as a wary student of experience, I approach her with respectful caution. Not once do my blades graze that frigid glass without the conscious or subconscious renewal of our pact: “Marjorie is upright on the ice. Any failure to maintain this status will result in an encounter on the most familiar of terms.”

Afraid to fall. “Why am I so afraid to fall?!” My questions draw perplexed mutters—“Why not fall? Are you touched in the head!?” Nevertheless, I ponder. Why not? Will falling hurt? Quite possibly. Will I look stupid? Undeniably! Is it weird? Admittedly, falling is frequent enough—joyful anticipation of it is not!
Are these reasons defendable? Some avoid any danger simply because of the possibility of pain or difficulty. Will I abandon the doorway to vivacious living because it is guarded by these stern realities? Or am I willing to attempt a feat that will entail hurt and discomfort? Is there anything worthy of this cost? A particular philosophy makes this claim: “It is ludicrous to go through any discomfort or challenge whose rewards are not comfortable, predictable, and painless.” My fellow theorists, I must confess… I disagree.

To those who avoid all things adverse, I offer my sincerest regrets—you irritate me. Fear not, my disapproval is far from disastrous to your reputation; however, what should concern you is this dangerous, naïve submission to bland familiarity, bored existence and flabby character. Even my callused heart pities you.

Please do not misunderstand: it is not the actual pain or discomfort for which I am clamoring. It is the strength of character produced by the self-motivated discipline and courage that defies its own fears to accept a challenge of pain and inconvenience. This is the insignia of the warrior.
Though my fear may be that of an icy catastrophe, a public performance, or the discomfort of disciplining myself in mind, body, and friendships, I have no right to shun these opportunities. I did not use this word unintentionally—I meant opportunities. We are to assault our difficulties, not whiningly shirk them! The fears we have may be instinctive, perhaps even Divinely-implanted. They are not, however, meant to keep us from striving to conquer. Fears are simply the first—and most critical— of many hurdles. Our life is an arduous regimen designed to tone the physique of our character. We must simply accept the first challenge.
He who now prevails has already fought the most important battle in the arena of his heart.
He has broken and bridled a treacherous winged-dragon: his own fear.