Remember being a kid and having little to no regard about your physical limitations. Jumping off higher and higher surfaces, falling off bikes and skates and getting right back up without a care about the cuts and scrapes. Man, I remember how I used to love climbing up tree after tree, as high as the branches would support my weight, without ever even bothering to see how high I was. I fell off quite a few times in these climbs, but then just rubbed the bruises and got right on back to climbing. Those were the good ol’ days of childhood fearlessness. Where thoughts of danger take a backseat to irrational impulses. Fun times, indeed.
Earlier today I was walking up a rather steep flight of stairs, and found myself reaching for the side railing and meekly thinking, “Gee, I hope I don’t slip, that 14-step fall down looks like it might sting a bit.” It was at that point I realized that my ten year old self would probably love nothing more than to kick my face in for wasting braincells on such silly thoughts. I think I’ll have to remedy the situation one of these days (and recapture that long lost fearlessness) by trying my hands on climbing a tree or two, just like in those bygone days (I just hope no one mistakes me for a Peeping Tom). Also, it’s not cheating if I bring a safety harness just in case, right? Right.