Has a moment ever felt so perfect that you almost didn’t believe that it was real?
Last winter, I went to the Poconos for the weekend and stayed in a cozy cabin. My friends and I played board games, went sledding, and hiked through the woods, dying of laughter the entire time.
Saturday afternoon, five of us climbed through the snow, trees, and hills until we made it to the ice-covered swamp. It was lined with trees stretching miles high, so grand that I wondered if they were whispering to heaven. Small patches of land stuck up from the ice, too tall to be fully submerged. It looked like a scene from a movie. With my friends laughing and smiling ear to ear, it felt like a dream.
My friend Ellie jumped onto a mound of land surrounded by ice, and onto another and another, like a game of hopscotch.
“Ellie! Come back! You’re gonna fall in and freeze,” I yelled over the frozen swamp.
“She’ll be fine, Meg. Don’t worry so much,” Reia laughed as she, and the rest of my friends, joined the game of hopscotch.
I signed. And then I smiled. They were right. The day was too perfect; no one was going to fall in. I do worry too much.
Without thinking, I started walking forward, closer and closer to the ice: “You guys are crazy!” I laughed.
I don’t remember hearing the ice crack, but I do remember the plunging feeling in my stomach and the bitter cold water. Actually, it was so cold that I didn’t feel much of anything at all.
I’ve walked on thin ice. And I’ve fallen in deep water. Would I do it again? Maybe not literally. Still, there’s something to be said about walking on fragile ground, knowing you may get hurt...
I was talking with my friends the other day about the speed of trust, and it really got me thinking. I trust people fast. Really fast. Sometimes I’m too honest, too soon. I believe the best about people, and I trust that they’re telling the truth.
But, I’m okay with that. I don’t want to live in a world where we never trust anyone else and so we jump around, so scared of getting hurt that we miss meaningful, authentic relationships. The thought of rejection being so terrifying that we’re willing to settle for fake smiles and surface-level conversations, a world where everyone sees us but no one knows us.
When we trust people, we become vulnerable, like walking on thin ice. And when we choose to live with such bravery, we will inevitably get hurt. We may fall deep down and begin to feel numb. After time, our numbness may be replaced with a freezing cold pain. But eventually, it fades. We warm-up and feel whole again.
If we can bear the plunge, we’re better off. Not only are we stronger, but we allow ourselves to be known and to be loved. Only once this happens can we really start living. And we owe it to ourselves because we were meant for so much more than just existing. We are meant to live, and breathe, and laugh, and love.
So walk on your own metaphorical thin ice. Take the risk. The water isn’t so bad; I promise.
How do you view risk? Is that something that you like about yourself or something that you want to change?
Last winter, I went to the Poconos for the weekend and stayed in a cozy cabin. My friends and I played board games, went sledding, and hiked through the woods, dying of laughter the entire time.
Saturday afternoon, five of us climbed through the snow, trees, and hills until we made it to the ice-covered swamp. It was lined with trees stretching miles high, so grand that I wondered if they were whispering to heaven. Small patches of land stuck up from the ice, too tall to be fully submerged. It looked like a scene from a movie. With my friends laughing and smiling ear to ear, it felt like a dream.
My friend Ellie jumped onto a mound of land surrounded by ice, and onto another and another, like a game of hopscotch.
“Ellie! Come back! You’re gonna fall in and freeze,” I yelled over the frozen swamp.
“She’ll be fine, Meg. Don’t worry so much,” Reia laughed as she, and the rest of my friends, joined the game of hopscotch.
I signed. And then I smiled. They were right. The day was too perfect; no one was going to fall in. I do worry too much.
Without thinking, I started walking forward, closer and closer to the ice: “You guys are crazy!” I laughed.
I don’t remember hearing the ice crack, but I do remember the plunging feeling in my stomach and the bitter cold water. Actually, it was so cold that I didn’t feel much of anything at all.
I’ve walked on thin ice. And I’ve fallen in deep water. Would I do it again? Maybe not literally. Still, there’s something to be said about walking on fragile ground, knowing you may get hurt...
I was talking with my friends the other day about the speed of trust, and it really got me thinking. I trust people fast. Really fast. Sometimes I’m too honest, too soon. I believe the best about people, and I trust that they’re telling the truth.
But, I’m okay with that. I don’t want to live in a world where we never trust anyone else and so we jump around, so scared of getting hurt that we miss meaningful, authentic relationships. The thought of rejection being so terrifying that we’re willing to settle for fake smiles and surface-level conversations, a world where everyone sees us but no one knows us.
When we trust people, we become vulnerable, like walking on thin ice. And when we choose to live with such bravery, we will inevitably get hurt. We may fall deep down and begin to feel numb. After time, our numbness may be replaced with a freezing cold pain. But eventually, it fades. We warm-up and feel whole again.
If we can bear the plunge, we’re better off. Not only are we stronger, but we allow ourselves to be known and to be loved. Only once this happens can we really start living. And we owe it to ourselves because we were meant for so much more than just existing. We are meant to live, and breathe, and laugh, and love.
So walk on your own metaphorical thin ice. Take the risk. The water isn’t so bad; I promise.
How do you view risk? Is that something that you like about yourself or something that you want to change?
I think risk is neccessary to get ahead. For example, entrepreneurs had to risk their future for their aspirations of running their new company.
ReplyDeleteWow... can I just say this blog is beautiful and without a doubt think you could easily write a best selling book! It is funny because I find myself both agreeing and at the same time, disagreeing with you. I often take a long time to open up and view trust as something that is earned, not given, but I do agree that without opening yourself up, you miss out on meaningful and fun experiences and that is something that I am trying to work on myself. Risk is important but I also think you need to be smart about it. For example, if I am going to walk on thin ice I am going to make sure I am with people and that I am not dead in the middle of the lake or pond. I guess my point is, yes it is important to take risks and open yourself up, but do not be stupid about it.
ReplyDeleteI think risks are an important thing in life as there's no way to change if we don't take them. If we don't take risks, how are we supposed to grow and learn as individuals, so I think it's important to take risks whenever possible.
ReplyDeleteI agree with you. In this age, it's really hard to find someone that you can really trust without them hurting you in the end. Even though that's the world we live in today, it is still incredibly important to know how to put yourself out there and take the risk of trusting someone. It might be trusting them too soon or too much at once, but just being able to allow yourself to do that shows a lot of bravery. It's incredible that you can trust someone like that and take such a big risk.
ReplyDeleteThis was a lot deeper than I expected it to be! I agree that trusting people is so easy to do. I am VERY quick to trust people, and I haven't found a reason not to trust someone yet, so it scares me to think about the "what ifs." As for risk, I like to do risky things as long as I know they're generally safe. I would go on the world's tallest roller coaster and go bungee jumping, but I wouldn't drive with someone who's going 100 on a highway or anything I know that isn't controlled.
ReplyDeleteRisk is always going to be a part of life. It’s what makes it interesting. Without risk, humans would still be stuck in the stone age. I personally don’t take as many risks as I probably should, and when I do, I worry over the risk I took. Sometimes you have to take the plunge and risk exposing yourself in order to find deeper connections with the people around you.
ReplyDelete