Fear is a funny thing. It’s a thing that I have been
thinking about a lot lately – does the way we face fear affect us? Do we face
fear differently as we grow? I’m going to answer that question with a big fat
yes.
I’ve always considered myself a bit of a risk-taker, but my
climbing trip in Colorado with First Descents forced me to push my boundaries
and look fear in big, dark pupils. Almost all of the young adult cancer
survivors that go on these white-water kayaking, surfing, or rock climbing
trips have never done these activities before and are scared of heights, the water,
or flipping in the kayak. But, that was the point – to look fear in the face
and overcome it. And hey, guess what, something really cool is on the other
side.
On the last day of our week in Colorado we had our
“graduation day climb,” which was a multi-pitch climb. This means that we kept
going up, up, up, as the guide made different paths for us, so we could
eventually get to the summit. I went into the week scared of heights and only
had moments of fear throughout the week, but it was always something I could
talk myself out of. Well, the graduation climb was a different story. I did ok
on the first two pitches (or legs) of the climb, but as I started out on the
third one, what they call “the exposure” hit me. I was hanging off the side of
a cliff, hundreds of feet off the ground with a rope as my safety. As I was
about to start climbing, I shouted out to everyone around me that I was scared as shit, ‘cause of course telling
everyone made me feel better, ha! After my first two steps, I just freaked out
and started crying. Everyone near me – as they had all week – encouraged me to
just let it out and feel scared ‘cause hell I was hanging off the side of a
cliff. Before this week, I would have never let myself cry it out, especially
in front of all those people. Would I have given up? No. But, would I have gotten
the same thing out of the experience? I highly doubt it. After crying it out
for 30 seconds or so, I continued my climb and kicked its ass! I stared that
big bastard named fear right in the face and I said hell I’m going to feel you
and overcome you. In that moment, I think I discovered a new piece of myself
and continued on my journey to take in all the beauty in life.
**
About a week after I got back from my Colorado trip, I got
the news that one of my best friends from the week received bad scan results.
This beautiful, fun, vibrant, adorable, silly, brave, remarkable 26-year-old’s
Hodgkin’s Lymphoma was back with a vengeance. Having all these new, wonderful
friends that are cancer survivors, I knew this was a possibility, but that was
a fear that was simply easy to overcome. The fullness I have in my life from
the people I met and my friend who I will call Lemmon Poppyseed Muffin is
indescribable. I am better for
knowing them.
My three friends and I just got back from an amazing weekend
visiting LP Muffin. She is about to start a chemo regimen, but in the mean
time, she is living the SHIT out of life. Every second we were there; there was
a smile, a giggle, a dance move, a funny face from her – so much amazing
energy. She defines lighting up the room. I am not a huge cuddler or toucher –
I mean sometimes – but not huge ha, and I cuddled the shit out of LP Muffin and
my other friends. I played with Muffin’s hair, gave her a back rub, sooo many
hugs, and lots of dancing. When we were in Colorado I was able to get a tiny
ponytail in her hair that stuck straight up and she was so excited (it’s still
growing back from chemo), and on this trip I was able to make six little
ponytails! She looked like a character from Dr. Seuss and it was hilarious! She
was just so excited that her hair was long enough to get six mini ponytails in.
By the way she has the best, softest hair ever so we deemed it Buttermilk
Feathers.
The weekend was full of laughs, love, exploring, crying, and
so much more. As I was reflecting on the trip last night, I just continued to
marvel at LP Muffin. Her relationship with fear is beyond anything I have ever
seen. My little Lemon Poppyseed Muffin has cancer all over her chest and in her
pelvis and she is breakin’ it down on the dance floor and traveling every
moment she gets. She is living. She is learning about herself each day,
growing, loving more, seeing the beauty that is all around us in this world,
and touching lives like mine. There is no way I can put into words how lucky I
am to have her in my life. Her presence and inspiration demolishes the big bad
fear bastard. Hanging off the side of a mountain? Hell, that’s nothing. HI
FEAR, MY NAME IS BECKY.
FILU DR. METH.
