Whats on the other side of fear?
Whats on the other side of fear?
Seek first to understand, then to be understood.
Stephen Covey
Charlie stood at the brink of the wall. Everything that he ever wanted lay on the other side of it. He touched the hard grimy surface. Too slippery to climb over, too wide to go around. The obstacles felt insurmountable and yet, the desire in his heart burnt bright. It felt as if the fire in his belly would consume him to ashes if he did make this attempt. Whats on the other side of fear?
Yet he was afraid.
The wall was the too big, too impossible. What if he hurt himself so badly that could never get up again? There was no one around to come to his rescue. If he got hurt now, there was nothing he could do and there was no way he could ever come back again. And even if he made it, what really lay there on the other side? He’d never seen it with his own eyes. They were just stories he had heard. Wonders and miracles; all too good to believe. Tall tales from people who had probably never done anything serious in their lives.
He touched the wall again.
He stroked its surface letting his finger slide carefully down its crenellated surface. It even smelt funny. Maybe this was not even his wall. If he kept walking there must be some tiny hole or a lower surface somewhere. There must be a secret entrance — he only had to look.
Clenching his teeth, he took a deep breath and jumped as high as he could. His nimble fingers managed to grab hold of something and he pulled as hard as he could. Blood started flowing from his hands as the glass which he held cut deep into his skin. The pain burnt his fingers and made his head want to explode. His eyes saw flashes of white death. So much blood, so much pain, he let one hand go and the pain in the other hand grew all consuming as the glass bit deeper into him.
His life flashed before his eyes.
Everything he had ever wanted, every loss he had ever encountered and they were many. If he had a tear for every misfortune he had ever encountered, he would have drowned an impossible death. He might even have seen the famous submarine, the Nautilus from the Jules Verne novel, 20,000 leagues under the sea, fighting the giant squid.
He remembered his father reading it to him as a child and the warm coziness of his fathers arms, his stoic presence. His fathers infinite love, patience and understanding for him and how he would tell Charlie how everything he would ever want lay on the side of fear. “Whats on the other side of fear Charlie?” He heard his father ask him.
He threw his arm back onto the glass, screamed his contempt for the F fucking word. Fuck you fear. With blood streaming across his hands, he pulled hard, screamed, threw one leg up onto the ledge and slipped. He pulled again, threw one leg up and slipped. His strength was fading, he would die. He would die a failure and he could see it now, his end.
He would go back to his old way, his old life.. that was it.
Screaming the rage of a thousand Valkyries marching to war, he pulled, screamed, threw one leg up , pulled, almost slipped, pulled, screamed, breathed, pulled and vaulted. He landed. Where dry dessert ends, green grass grows.. his fathers words came back to him.
Looking up, he saw another insurmountable wall.
This time, bigger, wider and possibly more slippery. The glass on its ledge looked even sharper. The wall mocked him. If it had a face, it looked like that teacher he had in high school who had mocked him.. who looked like every bully who had beat him.. whom looked like every girl that had ever rejected him.. who looked like every failure who had laughed at him. Yet all he could do in this moment was to take off his shirt. He ripped pieces of it to tie around his bleeding hands and threw the rest over the wall, as best as he could, landing on the glass.
“Now or never”, he said to himself. “Whats on the other side of fear Charlie?”
He ran to it and jumped.
Authors note:
We know the truth … By repeating the same moves, we perform the same tricks. By changing our moves, we perform a different trick. And it’s hard to learn something new.. not hard but challenging. It’s so much easier to slip back into what we know because we are good at it.
Learning a new language, a new sport, a card trick.. doing things a different way. Learning a new habit even.
You can always continue to live as the old version of yourself and thats fine. Theres also an option to live as the new version of yourself.. if you want to.
If I have to change, it means its forced upon me.. its no longer my choice. It will feel painful and uncomfortable.
If I get to change, I look forward to it. When things get challenging and theres mud smeared across my face; I might laugh, wipe myself off and get on with it.
Its just a game and I get to play it…
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood…
who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
— Theodore Roosevelt
🌞 EMPOWER YOURSELF — BECAUSE YOU MATTER
Whether you are currently a coach, looking for a coach or simply reading this out of curiosity — I invite you to practice this principle in your life. Seek first to understand and then to be understood. You might just make a new friend.
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