As I alluded to in my last blog post, I’m terrified of everything. Here I am in the Alps and I can barely drive for fear of driving off one of the multitudes of sheer drop offs without railings—and don’t get me started on the snow and black ice! Once in my 20’s I visited Zurich and surrounding Alps, marveling at the lack of road barriers on the edge of unfathomable escarpments my local friend’s response was, “whole families drive off the cliffs all the time and it’s not the government’s fault; the blame is solely on the father driving the car.” Those words haunt me today—thankfully my husband is a better driver—still. Honestly I don’t know how I convinced myself to be brave enough to leave friends, community, and big house, garden (oh how I miss my garden) behind to move here. But I’m glad I’m here—most days. I was just saying to my husband that an ex-girlfriend once affectionately called me piglet. His response was, “Yep that’s you.” Even at the time in my life when we are the most brave and feel the most inconvincible, I was piglet. Asking myself “have I always been afraid?” In middle school when I was forced to play softball I was so afraid of the ball that I was always put in outfield. On the rare occasion a ball would get knocked my way, I would literally hold my glove out and close my eyes, clenching my teeth. When I ask myself how I got this way I am reminded of being reduced to tears when my Mom was 5 minutes late picking me up from 1st grade because I was so afraid she would abandon me, stemming probably from being taken away from my birth Mom and finally adopted after foster care. The fear was compounded when my Mom was convinced that someone was trying to kidnap me—years later I vindicated my Mom by finding out that the man who claimed to be my birth father (who it turns out from a DNA test I took recently, not my father) was in reality trying to kidnap me (really I should write a book eh?). I am so afraid that after one ski accident where I was medevac’d off a mountain in Tahoe, I will likely never ever ski again—even with free lessons here in one of the most beautiful places to ski. You get it—most of my decisions are made out of fear. So as a Buddhist we are taught to challenge our fear. I did this in small ways like riding a roller coaster once (never again), traveling (sometimes alone) where I don’t speak the language, applying for and landing cool jobs, being outspoken and political even in the most toxic environments, and taking chances on love when I was youthful. Challenging my fear now as a mother means teaching my kids to take risks and enjoy life without my fear. My daughter is the only girl on the downhill mountain bike team, as a beginning snowboarder is already taking jumps off-piste (which she insists is with her instructor’s supervision), lead a GSA in CA and is starting one here in a very different environment with kids at the school from places where it’s literally the death penalty if you are gay. My son doesn’t care about being cool–he’s the brave science and math geek who always has something to contribute; he stands up for his sister even if it means being a gay advocate is just as bad as being gay; he skis without concern; and lives happily (I observe and hope) with the use of one hand in a 2 handed world. Yes it’s true that I live cautiously, but I challenge my fear with my kids. They are safe; they make good decisions (so far), they truly enjoy life and they take risks. So in the end it’s ok I’m afraid. I’ll eventually take that toboggan ride or drive down the mountain when the snow melts (maybe), but I will always encourage my kids to explore and go for it—whatever they want to do. I’ll leave you with a picture I took of a hot air balloon in the Alps (possibly the best photo I have ever taken in my life!) I’ve always wanted to ride in one but I know it would be very hard for me to climb aboard. Best to stand aside and take beautiful pictures!
