the things that scare me

My earliest years were spent in quiet, careful introspection. I was a thinker, and I lived almost exclusively in my own head. I read. I wrote. I was afraid to venture out into the world, and I spent a great deal of time just observing life as it went on around me. I had been so afraid to make a mistake, or to potentially hurt something, that I never affected anything, either. My eyes were open, but I was closed off.

It occurred to me that I had approached my life as if it were a watercolor painting-- wanting to see the full picture before committing to the canvas. I needed to know where the white would be, where the spaces would show through, before making a stroke I would regret.

In recent years, I have actively pushed myself to really experience the world, to become a part of it. In essence, I try to do the things that scare me. I have generally found them to be good for me. They push me beyond my comfort zone. They expand the boundaries of the world I belong to. They make life interesting.

Although emergencies once seemed daunting, I became an EMT and I now regularly manage situations that would once have seemed impossible. They can be taxing, but they are routine.

I have taken leaps to explore and share feelings that the girl I once was would have pushed down forever. I have become strong enough to let myself be vulnerable. I tell people how I feel. I write an online diary for the world to see. I have become comfortable enough in myself and my ideas to be, so to speak, an open book.

Where I was once so painfully quiet and shy that a classmate went a full year thinking my name was Bridget, I find myself much more extroverted, befriending diverse personalities with ease.  I am actively engaged in a world where I once sat on the sidelines.

This weekend, I was given the opportunity to become a backstage assistant to a major Broadway star, which was a terrifying prospect, but one that I immediately said yes to. When would I ever get the chance to do something like that again? Although I feared the unknown, I took a necessary step forward into it, and ended up having a lovely day, learning much about major theatrical performances and getting to watch most of the production from the wings. She even cut me a slice of her own birthday cake.

This has been my year of taking necessary risks, of daring to say yes to all of the things that intimidate me just a little.

I now live in a different medium. Watercolors are beautiful, but life is not so neat. If you are actively living-- if you are truly participating in the world-- your canvas will be covered with many false-starts, strewn with nonsensical lines and colors that bleed into one another, sometimes in less-than-appealing ways. You will make missteps, but they are perhaps the most important element of the well-lived life.