Off The High Dive – lessons from my fourth grade self

I was looking out On a sea of sparkling crystals. 

I saw the laughing face of father, 

And a worried look on mother’s.

 Encouraging words from sister. 

I felt like a tiny fish, 

Splashing when I came down. 

A weight was holding me . . . 

Urging and pushing me farther. 

The weight was lifted: 

I am trying. . . . . . kicking . . . . .. 

I’m making my way up. 

I wrote this poem as a fourth grader and it won an award at my school. I stumbled across it looking through books at my parent’s house recently; they have a few hoarding tendencies. What struck me was it so aptly captured the process for my adult decisions that involve risk and fear. This poem was written about literally jumping off a high dive because I never was a physically adventurous type and jumping off was terrifying – I still remember.

However, I since faced many other high dives including marriage, kids, career choices and medical diagnoses. Even surrounded by support and encouragement, it comes down to me taking the leap of faith by myself. And often once I leap, I still feel terror settle on me like the weight holding me down, my mind paralyzed with the doubts, second guessing and worrying. Thoughts thrashing horribly in my mind like the limbs of a drowning person.

But once I resist that magnetic pull of negativity, the weight seems almost magically lifted. And I am free to push myself back toward the surface and the light. I am still working hard to make progress toward being the person I hope I will one day become. Thank you to my fourth grade self for the great reminder.