Recently my friend, Angela, posted about "being fearless," and she asked her readers if they'd done anything fearless this week. As I read that post this morning, I thought about it...
... nope. I couldn't think of one thing I had done all week that could be considered "fearless." It was a completely low-risk week. If you don't count the various drives to the grocery store, school, and etc. (You know how many car accidents occur within one mile of home?)
But not an hour after reading that post, I found myself here:
Helping my husband shovel snow off of our roof.
I have an almost-paralyzing fear of heights. I've been on this roof in the summer, when it was bone dry, and even then I was physically shaking and scared out of my mind. To go up there when it's slippery, slushy, snow and ice, well, that's facing fear in a big way! But I did it. And I shoveled, too.
"My side's done." I said, inching my way sideways up the icy shingles to the peak.
"Great! There's plenty more over here." (No, I'm not Super Woman. He just had all the drifts on his side. LOL)
And that second-story roof above? Neither of us is setting foot up there. There's a fine line between fearlessness and stupidity!
Now this probably isn't what you had in mind, Angela, but I thought it was pretty coincidental, considering the timing... or maybe you subliminally inspired me to try something I never thought I could do. Who knows? But I have to admit, it was kind of fun. And I may have actually conquered my fear of heights.
To a degree.
As long as there are a few feet of snow on the ground below, to cushion the fall. LOL
Now if only I could take on my fear of public speaking so fearlessly... (I'd rather shovel the second-story roof!)
All in good time...
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