Fear

The skiing lesson on Sunday made me think about fear. I'm not kidding, when I looked down Ripcord or whatever black mogul run it was our instructor Natalie was intending to hurl us down I was terrified. I saw only bumps and valleys and no way for this huge big me with those long long skies to find a way through. I mean sure - finding my way down the unelegant flailing way that requires reassembly at the bottom... but in that easy flowing zig-zaggy dance that I love to watch? Nah-ah, not me!

So - Natalie went first and we followed. And somehow there was a path. Even though I couldn't see it, she could. And following in ski-tracks made me focus on each little turn rather than the whole slope. And I smiled as the ground smoothed out and we made it.

My mother tells me this story about when I was a young teenager. I used to go horseback riding just down the street from my parents' house. My grandfather came to visit and came along one time. Now, I don't remember this but it sounds so good so it must be true. :-) As far as I understand I was thrown off the horse and landed rather badly. Shaking with fear and pain, I gathered the reins, calmed the horse and got back on. And my grandfather said, that someone who can act despite of fear will get far. Yes, yes, I'm sure there is a great quote to go with that :-)

Nick tells me stories from the book he's reading about WWII. I remember watching "Saving Private Ryan". Watching the men in the boats as they approach the beach. I remember reading about people's response in the face of disaster. It seems many of us will respond by doing absolutely nothing when we don't know what to do and we're faced with danger, when fear makes us fail to see a path. Like a deer in the headlights we will sit there, waiting.

The fountain

Don't say, do't say there is no water
to solace the dryness of our hearts
I have seen

the fountain sprining out of he rock wall
and you drinking there. And I too
before your eyes

found footholds and climbed
to drink the cool water.

The woman of that place, shading her eyes,
frowned as she watched - but not because
she grudged the water,

only because she was waiting
to see we drank our fill and were
refreshed.

Don't say, don't say there is no water.
That fountain is there among its scalloped green and grey stones,

it is still there and always there
with its quiet song and strange power
to spring in us,
up and out through the rock.

-- Denise Levertov, Poems 1960-1967, in "Living Covenant, water as a metaphor in Lenten Worship", by Sandra Severs