I’m a little scared of heights. OK, more than a little.
So scared in fact, that I was secretly very relieved, the first time I visited Paris, that the weather prevented us from going up the Eiffel Tower.
The second time, the weather was great. And I still didn’t get all the way to the top. There was much cursing, pressing of self against walls, and um, swearing. Yeah.
Then, there was the terror-fest that was the ascent to the top of the Arche de la Defense…and the lift got stuck halfway up. Something about too windy to keep going. Or something.
But, being who I am, I tend to seek out opportunities to check whether I am getting over this particular fear.
Like visiting the Otway Fly Treetop Walk this weekend. The tour’s pretty clever: you start on the ground, among the undergrowth. Then you ascend to the mid level of the forest, and then, up a tower, the ‘Fly’, to the very top.
Going up was sort-of OK. I could look straight ahead and focus on taking one step at a time.
But going down?
Not so good.
Because I had to look down.
I tell you what, getting down to the suspended walkway? Felt like being all the way on the ground.
But I climbed that tower, yes I did.
And then, there was the silliness that came from deciding my hoodie’s fur lining made me look like lion. It came out a bit more Little Miss Sunshine than scary lion. Cough.
I don’t do something that scares me every single day. I’m not sure my nerves could handle that.
But meeting little challenges like this is a way to practice for the big ones.