My wife, working out on a three foot wide wall with a thirty foot drop on the other side.

Fearless isn’t a word is ever use to describe myself. Particularly as I get older, I seem to become even more of a worrier. It shows itself in strange ways, too. Like, when I got back on skis and was so afraid of falling all I did was fall. And when we rented the electric scooters and I was so afraid of crashing and falling that all I did was crash and fall.

I hate being fearful, and I hate that my first thought is “but what if” rather than yes.

You know what’s awesome?

My wife is fucking fearless. Seriously.

“What if” doesn’t occur to her. She assumes things will be fine and then works out how to do them. Drive a car in a foreign country? Obviously. Rent a boat in Spain and take it out into the ocean? Totally. Ski black diamonds, take a jet ski as fast as it will go, take on clients and then learn how to do what they need? Yes, and yes, and yes. She says yes.

The beauty of this is that it keeps me from disappearing into a mire of stagnating “what ifs”. I know without a doubt that my life would contract into a tunnel, a void of anything new, if she weren’t in my world. Fear is pervasive and consuming, and when you’re a person who has a quick fear response, it’s so, so good to have someone with you to take your hand and say it will be okay. To leap, because not to would be worse.

What would happen if we all said less what ifs and more yeses?

One thought on “Fearless

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