Scared of heights… Scared of the fall…

4 Nov

Recently it become clear to me just how afraid of heights I am.  I was on the Upper East Side and staying in a hotel with a very old elevator.  You know the kind, the ones the shake and shutter the entire ride up and down. Pausing just above the desired floor long enough to fall a few inches launching your heart into your throat.  Yes, that was my 3-day visit, white knuckles and a white face.  Even with my spray-on tan…

I have two fears in life… insects with more than six legs and a crashing to doom in an elevator (my recurring nightmare for over 20 years).

I then went directly to the French Quarter (good God I miss the food…) where I stayed in two more hotels that creek with every step.  And these elevators just took the cake.. It actually made me start rationalizing my fear of heights.  Sure, I adore the vantage point and view from above.  Who doesn’t find it relaxing to be on the top of the world?  But anyone who’s experienced heart-break or despair knows that the term “this too shall pass” also applies to the highs of life.  Perhaps its the pessimist in me, but its the crash that I’m scared of.

As much as I love my little happy pink bubble in the clouds, I have realized that I’m more guarded than I admit to be.  If my head is in the clouds and I’m dancing on cloud numbered nine, when is my nervous elevator going to just let go leaving me crash on the ground a million feet below me?  My realization turns out to be… maybe I’m not just afraid to die in an elevator… but maybe I’m now afraid of any fall… including the fall to love.. After all, a fall is fall.  When do we let go of the pain of the past and let the fall become something you can trust… something you can just slip into it with utter confidence that its all worth it?  Or is just the confidence in yourself that the risk will eventually be worth the reward.  Guess we’ll never know… but the fall is starting to become fun again…


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