But what if I can fly…

I really don’t like how moods affect my outlook. Sometimes it seems like I can accomplish anything, and other days, I ask myself when it became so difficult to get out of bed. I have tried on occasion to take a mental inventory of where I am in those great moments of optimism and strength, attempting to “bottle” it in my mind for later. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. Inevitably, I end up again in the land of pessimism with an empty bottle and no recollection of what was in it.

When my son was younger, I took pride in the fact that I could participate in activities with him. Prevailing against my own fears and concerns for my aging physique, I shrieked my way down water slides and hiked mountains that left me aching for days. One water slide was called the Stealth V. It looked intimidating to me, and my son was even visibly shaken after experiencing it, which shook my resolve even further. He came running up to me, dripping from the drain pool at the bottom, and said, “Mom, you’ve got to try this! I might go again.”

…the higher I climbed, the more I regretted my accursed “no regrets” approach.

The fact that he was having second thoughts about going again was a red flag, but I have this thinking process where I convince myself I can try anything once. At least I know I gave it a shot. No regrets. I ascended the five stories of steps with a tube to ride down on, and the higher I climbed, the more I regretted my accursed “no regrets” approach. I watched as the riders in front of me disappeared over the edge of the giant V-shaped abyss, where they would cascade down one side of the V and up the other, until they came to a stop in the drain pool many yards below.

I wanted to scream, but felt the air had been sucked out of my body.

I noticed that they were basically all young people, which of course made me question my reasoning in trying this thrill ride. But it was too late. I was next. I flopped my tube on the narrow platform next to the attendant and climbed on top. The young man instructed me to hold on to both handles, and then shoved my tube over the edge. It seemed that the V dropped off at a 90-degree angle, which it really didn’t, but it felt that way to my empty lungs as I tried to inhale amidst the absence of air. I wanted to scream, but felt the air had been sucked out of my body. In that instant, I had split-second visions of my tube rolling down the side of the V, my bones cracking as I rolled with it. But somehow I stayed upright, facing downward at my fate until gravity spun my tube and I found myself staring back at the point of origin disappearing in the distance. By the time my tube began to ascend the opposite side of the V, I found my breath and let out a pitiful “Woohoo!” This was mostly out of relief that I was almost back on ground level and the knowledge that I would not put myself through that ordeal again. Yeah, I did it once. That’s all I needed.

…it’s easy to focus on the empty bottle where the optimism once was…

It’s hard to believe my Stealth V experience was about seven years ago now. Recently, I was presented with the opportunity to go urban sightseeing on an electric scooter. Having broken a few bones over the course of my life, I was slightly hesitant to try it, but after a little practice, I became somewhat comfortable balancing on it and rode for over an hour. I applied the same principle as before. I had to try it, or I would regret that I didn’t. I didn’t want the regret. The old saying that people regret more what they didn’t do in life than what they did do seems to be embedded in my psyche. When I get stuck in those valleys of depression and pessimism, it’s easy to focus on the empty bottle where the optimism once was and think, “I better not try this; what if I fall?” There is one drop left in that bottle, however, and it whispers, “But what if I can fly?”

I’ll keep stepping out in faith, believing that if God leads me to it, He’ll lead me through it.

Appropriately, those scooters are called Birds, and I did “fly.” I’ll keep stepping out in faith, believing that if God leads me to it, He’ll lead me through it. Not just the entertaining aspects of life, but anything life presents. The principle is the same, even when it doesn’t turn out how I think it should, or when it takes my breath away in the process. No regrets.

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