Our elementary school in Illinois rented out the skating rink one Sunday afternoon a year. When my kids were all finally old enough to skate, I decided to get back on the rink. I loved skating as a teenager and was excited about feeling that freedom and exhilaration again--until I got out there.
Wow, the change in perspective and balance when a couple inches higher on little wheels is shocking. I went a couple yards and found that shag carpet covered wall, to which I clung. No handrail, so I clawed my way around the rest of the rink handful of shag carpet by handful of shag carpet. I promised God if I got around to the open area I would take those skates off and never put them back on again. I've never bargained with God on an airplane, but I sure did at that skating rink.
What surprised me was the raw fear. How could I have put myself in a position to get incredibly hurt? I could bust a knee cap, break a leg or arm and then where would I be? Who would drive the kids around? I could be laid up for weeks.
Where was that carefree enjoyment of whizzing around the rink? It was lost in a sea of knowledge. Lost in a sea of fear from all my knowledge. My eyes had been opened to the possibilities of pain and injury due to flitting about on wheels on concrete.
Kids flew past me, wrecked, got up and skated and wrecked some more. No fear. And I use to be like that?
Maybe that's key to moving ahead - ignorance. Okay, not really ignorance, but the ability to not focus on the consequences of failure. You know, that saying -What would you do if there was no risk of failure? What would I do?
What would YOU do?