Over the holiday break, my boys and I had a chance to do some rock climbing on a climbing wall. You pull on the harness. They clip you in. You choose “Easy,” “Medium,” or “Hard.” And off you go.
It sounds so simple, and really, the wall isn’t that high. But about halfway up, I caught a glimpse of the down. I had to refocus myself on simply finding the next handhold. Conquering my fears one step at a time.
My 13-yo got to just about the same point when he called down, “I think I have to come down!” He’d hit that same wall. But he didn’t know how to get past it.
Now, I knew he was safe. He was buckled in. The rope and mechanisms would catch him if he fell. I’d already done it myself, and I knew he could do it.
So I called to him, “Keep going! You’re almost there. You can do this!”
That is too hard for you.
You should stick to what you know.
But those are lies. If we refocus ourselves, take things one step at a time, and stop thinking about those fears, we can conquer them! Maybe not on our first try, but if we keep trying, it will happen.
Sometimes we need outside support, and that’s okay! That’s why you should surround yourself with people who build you up. People who believe in you. People who can see things from a different perspective. Find those people! Search them out, then hold them close. I know it’s made a huge difference in my life.
Conquering fears is hard. It can be scary. It can take time. LOTS of it! But I tell you what, that feeling you get when you finally make it is worth it.
Remember.
You ARE good enough!
Nothing is too hard if you’re determined.
Learning new things is amazing!
What fears are you hoping to conquer?
Happy Thanksgiving to you all! The United States celebrates Thanksgiving on the 4th Thursday of the month (which means we’re never certain when it is without a calendar), which happens to fall on November 28th this year.
I’ve read a lot about the troubling past of this holiday, and I’m super looking forward to Kate Messner‘s new series History Smashers, which starts with a tale about the Mayflower.
That said, Thanksgiving is a wonderful time to consider all the things we are grateful for. Gratitude is something we don’t seem to have enough of in this world, so here are my top five things I’m grateful for:
1. My family.
(These people are my rock. They are there for me in all the best and worst and mediocre-est moments of my life. I would be lost without them).
2. A book coming out next year.
(I don’t take this for granted at all. Getting a book published is tough. No matter what road you take. And heck, even writing one is a BIG DEAL! So much gratitude that I’m in a position I can both write them, and have the opportunity to have one published.)
3. My faith in God, and my beliefs.
(I don’t talk about this much here on my blog, but my beliefs are my compass. They give me direction, and I’m who I am because of them.)
4. My friends
(IRL ones, writing ones, social media ones, ALL OF YOU! Wish I had a big picture with you all in it, but I don’t. Sorry if you aren’t shown, I still love you and am grateful for you!)
5. Cookies.
(Whoever invented them, THANK YOU!)
Happy Thanksgiving! And please tell me what you are grateful for! I’d love to hear. 🙂
Life has been good to me, and I have much to be thankful for:
Thank you to all of you! You know who you are and what you do. My life would be meaningless without you.
A quick P.S. . . . I’ll be out the next two weeks (minus Talli Roland’s Web Splash on Dec. 1!) working on revisions, but happy holidays to all of you! See you soon. 🙂
“Stop running!”
[I swear that’s my mantra these days–in more ways than one, but I digress.] That’s what I yelled right before the BOOM! Then came the crying.
“London pushed me!” Brandt was on the floor wailing and pointing back toward the room. London was hiding.
I picked up the one and started scolding the other. Then I saw it.
Blood POURING down Brandt’s face. I swooned. A moment of shock. I forced myself to think past the blood dripping on the carpet. And I admit it, I panicked. The word ‘hyperventilate’ comes to mind.
I sent an accusing look at London (I know, I know, bad parenting, but in the moment . . . well, yeah), and rushed Brandt to the bathroom. I pressed a wad of toilet paper on the faucet of blood. “Hold this and don’t move!” I ordered.
I grabbed my phone book and called my good friend: “So, Brandt-split-his-head-open,-and-I-need-to-take-him-to-get-stitched.-Somewhere.-I-don’t-know-where-yet,-but-could-you . . . ” I think I said it all in one breath.
Can I just say, thank goodness for good friends! She helped me find the address for the hospital, and kept the other two so I could keep my sanity.
To sum up, Brandt got seven stitches . . . and I’m sure a scar to match his other one. He was a brave little boy who didn’t wiggle, and didn’t cry at all while the doctor worked. The doctor was in awe: “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a child sit so still for stitches before.”
Yup, this is my child who I had to carry screaming out of the store because he COULDN’T get a flu shot.
And now, I have finally joined the rank and file of true parents, having dealt with my first trip to the emergency room.
P.S. Dana, I didn’t think about taking a ‘Before’ picture till it was too late. Rats.