All the Good Stuff Lives Past the Fear

When I was a kid growing up in Dallas, there was a waterpark called Sandy Lake. I have no idea if it still exists … but if it does, I’m sure OSHA has since visited and changed a few things.

One thing I remember vividly was the high dive. I swear it had to be 483 feet tall. (Okay, maybe it was 20. But I was 8, so … same difference.)

I remember standing in the long line of kids waiting to climb the ladder. I’d watch each of them run, bounce, leap into the air, and hit the water like champions. It looked amazing. Inspiring, even.

Until I got closer to the ladder.

Then it started:

That nervous flutter in my gut.

The sweat forming on my palms.

The “what if I just pretended to faint?” kind of thoughts.

But when my turn came, I started climbing. Halfway up, doubt hit me like a tidal wave. I looked down behind me—there were kids coming up. No way to back out now. So, I kept going.

When I reached the top, I froze.

Like statue-frozen.

Like “why do I suddenly need to pee?” frozen.

I shuffled forward … not with confidence. But, with a step, slide … step, slide, to the edge of the board. The water below looked four times farther than I imagined. It was no longer a fun little leap. It was a drop to my demise.

But there was no turning back.

So I jumped.

Air rushing.

Heart pounding.

Stomach relocated to my throat.

It felt like minutes, not seconds were passing by.

I pressed my feet together like I’d seen others do, covered my boy bits like every cautious pre-teen did, and braced for impact.

SPLASH!!!

The water slapped over my head,. Then …. gurgling silence.

And the most miraculous thing happened:

I didn’t die.

It wasn’t pretty.

It wasn’t graceful.

But I did it.

I broke the surface with a smile stretched across my face—like fear had just lost and courage had won.

That memory came flooding back because I’m about to jump again.

Not from a high dive this time … but into a brand-new art series.

It scares the holy jeepers out of me.

It’s different.

It’s raw.

And I have no idea how it’ll land.

But I’m climbing the ladder.

And here’s what life’s taught me:

Opportunities don’t come with guarantees … they come with invitations.

You can ignore them.

You can walk away.

Or…

You can climb the ladder, shuffle to the edge, and leap.

Even if your knees are shaking.

Even if it’s not pretty.

Even if the only plan you’ve got is “hold the jewels and hope for the best.”

So tell me ...

What jumps have you made lately?