Letting Go

He climbed up the ladder to the backyard slide, cautiously, but with little fear. Two years old and eager to adventure. I stood in the doorway, willing myself to let him. I pulled my controlling fingers off of him one at a time.  Deliberately.  Fearfully.  But determined to trust.  Either he would make it, or he would fall.  If he fell, it wouldn't be fatal.  And isn't life about falling, failing, trying again, and adventuring?

And I've been purposefully peeling my controlling fingers off of him, his younger siblings,  a marriage, my plans, my self... ever since.  But without the determined letting go, our fingers will be bruised and our hearts may be broken.  Not only that, but we are avoiding the beginning of a new dream.  The new places our lives want to go.

Almost 25 years later, and that same boy participates in amazing events like The Goruck Challenge  where he carries 30 pounds of bricks in a backpack, does crazy crawls, push-ups, and all things challenging (in the middle of the night). And pays for the right to be a weekend warrior.  It's still scary for me, even more so since he brings along one of his brothers.  Any finger control I would have over this is imaginary.

Today I am peeling the fingers off of security and venturing out to try new dreams.  It's been a security that doesn't really work for me, but it's comfortable.  I know it.  The ride down that slide, however unknown, has got to be totally worth it.