I'm hanging on for dear life. One more move and I've made it up the route. Why does the last move always take way more strength, trust and ambition than all the others? I swear, this happens every time. Seems like its always one more huge stretch to success. Can my feeble arms handle it? Ugh. I'm going to fall. I just know it. Why isn't the rope tighter? I wish my arms would grow six inches. Then this would be easy. Well, I can't just stay here forever... no more excuses, here goes nothing! Reeeaaaach!
Its all about risk... it is an ever-present life occurrence faced by each of us. It holds out excitement and success in one hand, and fear and failure in the other. Severely impacting our reality, risk forces us to make decisions on how we choose to handle life... will we be ruled by fear, or empowered by possibility?
The possibility that somehow my feeble arms will pull off that last move on a climbing route. The possibility that an acceptance letter into grad school will arrive in the mail instead of flunking the GMAT. The possibility that following a budget is easier than it looks. The possibility that...
I refuse to let fear control my life. Because at the end of the day, I know the rope is always held tight, and that strength will be provided at my weakest moment. This I trust in. And so I reach.
