Roller Coaster Arms

For most of my life I held onto a gripping fear of heights. If there was the slightest hint of an edge from which I could fall (to my certain painful death no doubt) vertigo would take over as a full surge of adrenaline brought on tears and stole my legs from under me. My rational mind tried valiantly to talk my irrational self into all the logical strategies to compensate for and minimize this fear. The result of those efforts was my rational mind considering that irrational self had some very good arguments why being so afraid was not so irrational after all.  Being afraid kept me safe. I happily stayed on terra firma with feet planted, no edges in sight. Looking up at all the crazy folks who dared risk certain painful death.

Oh how I envied those fools. For as much as I feared it, I longed for what I could see in the eyes of those who dared. Silently I would vow that someday I would be among them. Just as soon as I found the temerity that eluded me.

My dreaming was not without progress.  There were times that I did make bold efforts to beat this phobia that was keeping me from going to higher places. Slowly I learned how to coax and stretch that grip which held me back. I learned how to step carefully, how to steady myself, where to look and where not to look. I remained respectful of my limits and knowing when to stop.  Every time I returned from a new height safely I marvelled at what I was able to accomplish. I had outsmarted those scary edges. Certain painful death escaped.

As my illness worsened, each day there were fewer things I could do without suffering significant lasting pain.  I began to look back with deep regret for lost chances that I had let the fear of imagined pain keep me from experiencing. Real pain assuring that there would be no second chance for me. When I became disabled it was proven. My fight was over. Fear had won.

There is a gift though in ceasing to be at war with pain. When you accept that regardless of how clever,careful or how even how carefree you are – something is going to hurt – you are faced with two choices. Experience pain from not doing or experience pain from doing. You can take pain on as the weight that holds you back or you can take it on as the evidence that you are still alive; certain painful death not so certain after all. No longer resisting pain, no longer afraid of it I was free to discover exactly where I could go with it.

Accepting that I was exactly as limited by my illness as I was at that time, no more no less, I found the freedom to accept the tools to help me live a better life. My little red dragon let me get to places I was unable to on my own. When I stopped fearing the edge I found that my boundaries expanded!

One of the first big adventures we took after I surrendered to this new freedom was to Disneyland Paris for my daughter’s 8th birthday. My honoring my disability gave rise to more solutions. Disney, for all its glorification mass consumption and host of other offenses against my sensibilities, is tremendously accommodating to the needs of their theme park patrons with disabilities and special needs. The trip itself made affordable by concessions on admission prices that accounted for the increased costs associated with disabled living. Once inside the park we were given what we dubbed “the golden ticket” which gave us ‘exit pass’ to all rides and attractions. No waiting in long lines to steal my precious energy, no worry about stairs and barriers that would have kept me from reaching the fun that awaited.

Disneyland Paris with my daughter. Hands in the air!

The only thing between me and world class thrills was that fear which had always held me back. The fear which was there in that moment as if it had never left me. Screaming at me. Warning me. Danger – Certain Death Ahead! These were roller coasters – manmade bits of steel ready to crumble beneath me; machines moving at speeds which would eject me into oblivion no matter what safety measures were taken. And really –  It is true. They are exactly that. No argument of engineering marvels and physics can change the potential, no matter how minute, that there is real risk involved in riding roller coasters. Right?!

In the moment, when I sat on my scooter at the edge of the platform to embark on Space Mountain, a ride I had declined at past visits to Disneyland in California long ago, I heard it so clearly. Face this certain painful death. Go to this edge. Go with the fear as my loving companion. Discover exactly how far I could go with it. Dare to find the evidence that I can not only go to the edge and run safely back –  but jump off, trust and live.

I did it. And I loved it.  Really truly loved it. I wanted more. Rides previously omitted from the  ‘must-do’ list because they were scary loopy big roller coasters got moved to the top of the itinerary.  A lifetime of fear broken free from – an entire new lifetime to be lived.

Upside down, twisting turning, hands in the air yelling out with joy. I experienced what I saw in the eyes of those who dared. In that moment I became one of those who dared.

It sounds like an impossibly existential experience to come out of a roller coaster. I’ve doubted it and tested it as often as possible since that time. I am still alive and happy to report that I am a confirmed fan of the towering steel corkscrews of doom. (seriously – how can anyone think they are safe!). I’ve crossed narrow logs over deep ravines to prove that it isn’t just roller coasters I no longer fear. I’ve faced other demons and fears in challenge of getting anything more than an expensive new interest from learning to love roller coasters and climbing to high places.

The feeling of hands up in the air in the middle of a wild roller coaster with shouts of “Let go, trust and LIVE!” even with real or imagined threat of certain painful death —  it has power and has come to hold a pivotal point in my personal story. I share it today with you as once again I am faced with a “roller coaster” in my life. Several actually. It seems as if I’ve been in a veritable Disney of personal thrill rides in the past months and weeks.

I share my story of roller coaster arms today inviting you to notice where you fear certain painful death and consider maybe… just maybe… what if you dared.