Standing at the edge of the high-dive platform, I’m staring down to the water far below. What if I hit the water wrong? It would hurt. What if I drown? Just the thought of gasping for air scares me. I’m 10 years old. In swim class today we’ve climbed all the way up to the top diving board. I keep trying to find my nerve to jump off, but I back up from the edge. I can’t do it.
Richardson Pool, Schofield Barracks, Oahu, Hawaii
The teacher says if we’re afraid to jump, we can move to one of the lower dive boards. I decide to try a lower board, but I can’t get off! With all the kids coming up the stairs, I keep having to wait for all of them to get by me. It would be even more mortifying climbing back down through all of them. Once I finally get down to the lower board, I still can’t overcome my fear. I’m totally humiliated. Thankfully, I have no memory of the teacher—or the kids—giving me a hard time or ridiculing me.
I’m in rock climbing class. I’ve climbed up the 100-foot cliffside. Once up top I now have to rappel back down. After what seems like hours of trying to get my nerve, I‘m ready to go off—backwards!—from the edge of that rock face. I’m doing pretty well too. It’s fun. Until the cliff disappears! The face is undercut, leaving nothing to put my feet against. I’m so scared. But, with coaching from everyone, I’m able to keep going. I make it all the way down. What a rush! I broke through my incredible fear. I’m proud of myself. It was a blast! I had to try it again!
Gibraltar Rock, Santa Barbara, California
I’m in Acapulco, Mexico. My sister has joined me and our room looks down to a wonderful view of the beach. As I watch below, they hook one person after another into the parachute apparatus attached to a speed boat off shore. As the boat pulls away, the passenger lifts up into the sky. I watch the billowing parachute in the sky above, the blue water below. I have got to do that! For days we enjoy walking on the beach, laying at the pool, talking, reading, enjoying our Pina Coladas, all the while trying to get the nerve to do this. What if they drop me? That’s a long way down. Finally, it’s the last day and I’m running out of time. Am I—or am I not—doing this?
Parasailing, Acapulco, Mexico
Well, I did do it! As they were strapping me in, I had my camera around my neck. They asked if I was sure I wanted to take it. Sure did! After taking that long to get up the nerve to finally do it, I wanted the pictures to prove it! It was a magical experience!
Writing my Master’s Thesis, “Leaving the Clerical Track: A Feminist Analysis,” was a different kind of fear. It was emotional rather than physical. It wasn’t the fear I’d be hurt; this was a fear of change and letting go. I just kept getting ready. But this “preparing” stage was not the actual writing of that thesis. After months of planning, I finally got it written, realizing that completing it was so much less stressful than thinking about it. But even more important, I realized I was achieving what the thesis explored: becoming a “creative problem solver,” rather than a “passive receiver of tasks.”
Working as a Driver/Guide in Yellowstone National Park also brought up emotional fears. My partner Steve had the opportunity to work as a Driver/Guide in Yellowstone National Park after retiring. As for me? I wasn’t sure about living in a dorm room and eating cafeteria food for five months. But there were other nagging thoughts: what if I couldn’t do the work, didn’t have the stamina it took, and could I be away from my home that long? I told him, “You go. Tell me what you think.”
Part of the training as a new guide, includes having six days—called “Frolic”—out and about in the Park learning all the nooks and crannies, history and nuances of every mile throughout the Park. Well . . . when Steve began describing his experiences I was hooked! I knew immediately, I’ve got to do this! Now I just had to get up my nerve.
That summer of 2015 I read everything I could find about Yellowstone. It was scary to think about actually doing something I’d never done before. Yes, I’d already been doing tours as a Docent at the Desert Botanical Garden since 2008. Yes, I’d talked to lots of groups in my younger years leading workshops and seminars. But what if I couldn’t remember everything there is to learn about an area of the country I’d never lived in? Since a young adult, I’ve lived in the Southwest; the Rocky Mountains and the Yellowstone area were totally different from anything I’d known. That’s a lot to know and pass along to visitors in an interesting and competent manner. I knew I could probably do this and I had to try.
Well, I did apply and was accepted. I have been a Driver/Guide in Yellowstone since the summer of 2016. I got to go on my own “Frolic” and to learn about our country’s first National Park. And, once again, we’re about to leave for another summer in Yellowstone National Park.
Me and the Historic Yellow Bus
Why is it certain situations are scary to some but not to others? For me, I decided I would not let my fear control me. Maybe we don’t always recognize it at the time, but in pushing through and challenging those fears I grew. I’m empowered when I can say “I did it!”It was worth moving through those fears.
Have you had times in your life where you have tried to—or did—overcome fears? Maybe sharing some of my fears and that I moved through them will help you. We all deserve the satisfaction of growing through experiences.
We were on our usual morning walk recently along the Salt River near Tempe Town Lake here in Arizona. While heading west, we said “Hello” to the usual group of photographers. I noticed an adult Bald Eagle and a Kestrel on the light poles. But that wasn’t the direction in which the photographers were looking. They were definitely looking toward the big field that used to be the ASU Golf Course. That’s when I noticed it. Over in the field—not at the river—those flapping huge big bluish-gray wings. Not in the air. On the ground. My partner Steve and I kept looking with our binoculars. We kept looking and would notice the flapping again. Then it would stop, flopping on the ground. What was that? Then we saw it again. Something was definitely wrong over there. It was a large bird and it was in some kind of trouble. What was going on?
I immediately looked for a way over there, Steve right behind me. It dawned on me this might end up being just as painful for me as for the bird if it clawed or pecked me. I couldn’t let that stop me. I had to do what I could to help this poor guy. When we got closer it was a large bird lying motionless on the ground, a Great Blue Heron. It was very clear though that it was all tangled in fishing line. We surmised it tried to use its bill to remove the line wrapped around its legs and ended up getting the line around part of its lower bill and couldn’t move its head. Once we got there, I easily picked it up. It didn’t struggle at all. Steve took it from me once he got there and I was able to then remove the line from its lower bill. But the line and weights were really wound around with a hook in its leg. It was bleeding and immediately apparent we needed to get this poor guy to Liberty Wildlife as quickly as possible.
We started climbing back out of the field, Steve holding it while I called Liberty Wildlife. We walked back to where we park every morning for our walk while bird watching. I helped Steve and our little guy get into the car and headed to Liberty Wildlife. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long, maybe 15 minutes, even with rush hour traffic. At first our little guy hardly moved. It stayed motionless, its head was still tucked into its wing, but it had its eye open and watching us. Steve very lightly held his beak and feet in case he started squirming, even though, probably from exhaustion and possibly shock, there was no struggle.
Photo taken by Randy VuletichPhoto by Randy Vuletich
By the time we arrived, Steve noticed it was moving a little more, perhaps more rested from its ordeal. The woman staffing the intake window saw us coming and immediately got up to open the big slider. She took it immediately to the back. When she returned for us to provide her with information she said there were a number of folks already working on our little friend.
We expect—with some healing time and a lot of tender loving care from Liberty Wildlife folks—this guy will make it and once again be out fishing.
Great Blue Heron. Taken by Melinda in Yellowstone National Park
I am the bison and her calf
