The Butterfly and the Bear: The Deep End of The Ocean

This weekend I set up my Avon Walk for Breast Cancer fund-raising page. Doing that made me realize that this is real and I am in fact doing this. Lazy ol’ me is going to walk 39 miles in two days, camp out overnight and raise over $2000 for a cure for breast cancer. After I set up the page and linked it to my Facebook profile and my Twitter I thought to myself, “Ok, no turning back now.” Not that I would ever want to put the brakes on something like this, however, it is totally and completely out of my comfort zone. I was thinking about training and raising the funds for the walk and I realized it has been forever since I have felt this particular mixture of emotions; fear, excitement, exhilaration, anticipation, pride, and hopefulness. All these little butterflies are swarming around in my rib cage, in a good way, and I registered the fact that for so many years I was numbing myself by playing it safe. By staying with the routine and not allowing myself to take chances I had paralyzed myself both physically and emotionally. I had shut the door on chance, hope, opportunity, and of course failure. Because as we all know, if you don’t even try then you can’t fail. And what is so awful about failure? I honestly don’t know, but I do know for a large part of my life I have been afraid of failure and ridicule. This foolish avoidance of failure had boxed me in, and made my world smaller. Gone were the big ideas, the hopes, the dreams, the grand plans and schemes, in their place was doubt, monotony, restlessness and ennui.

When had I allowed this to happen? When had I become this timid, gun-shy, candy-assed sissy? In an attempt to trace back when this faint heartedness emerged I tried to remember the last time I felt that cocktail of emotions, trepidation and exhilaration over the future. It was before heading off to college, then the christmas break before I studied abroad, and then finally the summer before I moved to London. That was 12 years ago. Why had I allowed myself to be emotionally asleep for the last 12 years? I’m still not completely sure, was it not becoming a mega-star in England? Having to come home penniless and before I was ready to? Not being a millionaire by 30? Not realizing so many of the dreams I had as a young woman and a 20-something? Perhaps, but shielding myself from failure by playing it safe clearly didn't serve me well. I wasn’t stepping out of my comfort zone, I wasn’t challenging myself, I was babying myself emotionally and numbing myself. Yet once you take one leap it is easier to keep jumping, I left my job, my apartment, I gave up everything I felt defined me. I started this blog, I became more open and honest with my desires and hopes and dreams, I verbalized emotions and goals that I had let lay dormant for years. I started exercising and watching what I ate, this time without fear of failure or ridicule. Before when I would start a new “diet” I would often keep it a secret, not this time, I let everyone know what I am doing, I tell everyone I am focusing on getting healthy, on living the best life I can. And then I made a commitment to do the Avon Breast Cancer Two Day Walk. I feel like all these years I was standing on a beach watching everyone else dive into the ocean and I was too cold and scared to join them, I worried about my hair getting wet, of looking foolish, of not being a good swimmer. Then one day I dove head first into the oncoming waves and it felt...great! Electrifying, refreshing, and perhaps a little scary, but it felt good!

It also made me realize how selfish being lost in your own head and closing yourself off can be. I let friendships languish, I missed connecting with people, I was emotionally unavailable, I missed out on fun experiences, I wasn’t contributing to the community, to the world. Yes I gave to charity, but I wasn’t really DOING anything. You can’t give yourself over to anything, be it another person, a dream, a project, to life, if you are lost inside your own thoughts and fears. I saw on the local news last week a story about a group of second grade school kids who shaved their heads in solidarity with a little boy in their class who is battling leukemia. Every single little boy and girl and their teacher in his class completely shaved off all their hair. So he wouldn’t feel alone, so he wouldn’t be teased, so he wouldn’t feel different. They did it seemingly without trepidation, without fear, they just did it. Because it was the right thing to do, and because they weren’t thinking about themselves, or how they would look or feel, they were thinking about him and helping him. Read the story here, but be prepared to get weepy, or if you are my Father get a “really bad headache". Have you ever noticed at the beach, no matter how cold the water is, kids are always the first to jump in? To run fearlessly into the surf, with their heads thrown back and their arms out? As I discover from Terr-bear every day, we can learn a lot from the children in our lives. Who knew everything I needed to know about being adult I learned when I was seven?

If you'd like to donate and help me in my fund-raising efforts for the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer please click this link to my personal page. And if I know you and have your email address you should be getting a fund-raising request in your inbox within the next few weeks. Thank you all for your love, support, and encouragement!