It occurred to me that fear is like a rope bridge dangling over a rushing river which connects the current version of ourselves to a higher, more evolved self.  We realize that to evolve, we must cross the bridge.  Standing where we are, however, the bridge looks rickety and unsafe.  We don’t feel confident it will support our weight.  We wonder whether it might give way and send us headlong into the wild torrent below, so we pause and we wait.

This is where many of our fellow travelers stop.  We all know them – trapped on their side of the river, unable or unwilling to move forward to continue their journey.  They take up residence in that spot and never leave, refusing to progress on this experiential journey called life, electing to forsake whatever wonders might lie on the other side of the river in exchange for the safety and certainty of where they presently stand.

Then there are those who are called forward to continue exploring, to continue pressing the boundaries of this gift of existence they’ve been awarded.  They know getting to the other side will require courage and faith.  They sense a call to trust the bridge, to befriend it, to make peace with it, knowing its ultimate purpose is for their greater good – a means to their growth and expansion – not some cruel trickster leading them toward ruin and desolation.

So we resolve to move on, and as we take our first cautious steps, we wonder if we’ve made the correct choice.  The footing is uncertain; the bridge sways, wiggles, creaking and groaning under our weight.  But as we push through those first uneasy steps, the bridge begins to feel more stable and sound.  Halfway across with our destination clearly in sight, we hardly notice the bridge or the river rushing beneath our feet.  And when we finally reach the far bank and look back from whence we came, the rickety rope bridge now appears a solid truss constructed of concrete and steel, giving us pause to wonder why we feared crossing the bridge in the first place.

Mark Layne