While I do admit to having my fair share of neuroses, there are only two things that make me truly afraid. The first, which I have already admitted to in this blog, is heights. Or more specifically, I am afraid of falling or of witnessing the (serious) fall of a loved one. I have no idea where this fear comes from, but I can remember climbing a fire tower as a wee one and having to cling to my grandfather's hand... Or his leg... Or a support beam... the entire way up and down. This is my first memory of a great many memories of times that I have felt afraid of heights. For the most part, I have not let this fear stop me from experiencing the good things in life, and there are many examples of the times that I have "felt the fear, and did it anyway..."
Recent examples include crossing a suspension bridge in the cloud forest in Costa Rica. Scared, but did it. Climbing one of the only Mayan pyramids in Mexico that is still allowed to be climbed by the public... Terrified, but did it, (while crying). And doing the "cat walk" at a high ropes course... Absolutely out of my mind with fear, crying, but did it. After completing each of these experiences I had a high that was indescribable and felt incredible pride about my accomplishment. These are some of my most treasured memories... Everything is a bit different in hindsight!
While my fear of heights is somewhat irrational and seems to be something I was born with, my other fear did not develop until college. And, frankly, I experience absolutely no pride or exhilaration when forced to face it. This fear is of lightening.
The summer before my junior year of college, four people that I knew were struck by lightening. Two of the people who were struck I knew very well... Another was the mother of my roommate at the time. The fourth person, who tragically lost his life, was the father of a college friend. The whole experience was horrible. Almost exactly a year before this tragedy occurred, I can remember purposefully sitting outside on a friend's porch during a storm, watching the lightening strike over the lake, feeling safe in the knowledge that being struck by lightening "couldn't happen to me" and thoroughly enjoying the experience. Now I live with a very clear understanding that it certainly could happen to me, and I derive zero pleasure from storms. Does it seriously impact my life? No. I am not a person who completely loses the ability to function at the first hint of thunder. But at times, my fear of lightening can impact the decisions that I make.
Which brings me to today's novel experience. Now I count on my "smart" phone to notify me of many things, and it serves me well most of the time. However, today my phone failed me in a most profound way. With absolutely no inkling that a monster storm was brewing and a severe weather alert had been issued for exactly where I was, I set out with my two babies and giant dog to drop my son off at daycare. At first, there was just your typical rumbling of thunder followed by a bit of rain. But then the sky darkened, opened up and I was suddenly driving in the most massive hail storm I have ever encountered... and the only one I have ever been caught in. Within two minutes the road was completely white with fallen hail and the thunder was booming around me. When lightening struck a few hundred feet in front of me, (and exactly where I was headed), I pulled a u-turn and went home to assess the damage to my car, (thankfully, none!), and wait out the storm in the comfort of my garage. It was a relatively warm day, and this photo was taken more than thirty minutes after the hail had fallen.
So while this photo does not do the storm justice, you can get a sense of what I was dealing with.
The transforming power of hindsight has struck once again. Fear has turned into awe, and I am amazed by the strange beauty of this experience and the power of mother nature. But this is one novel experience that I definitely hope, (but seriously doubt), will remain novel for a long time!
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