I love traditions. One tradition that we have started is to take our kids ice skating over the holidays.

I automatically picture my kids over the years ice skating and each year wearing a bigger skate size, getting taller next to the railings, and no longer having to grasp a hand as they drift smoothly across the ice. I picture their smiles and imagine their laughter, even as their voices get deeper. I’m telling you, I’m a sucker for a tradition.

The first year we went, my two youngest boys were too little to get out there so we walked around and took pictures of my husband and the older two as they fell and got up and laughed and kept going.

Last year, I had a herniated disc in my lower back, and even though I got on the ice, I was terrified to twist wrong or fall and hurt it even worse. I think I held on to the railing more than my kids did.

This year, after the problems I had with my back, I was possibly even more terrified this year to not re-injure myself. Terrified. I almost backed out. My kids looked so excited though, that I didn’t want to be the only one on sidelines, missing out.

On went my skates and I toddled to the ice, holding on to the side for dear life.

My youngest gripped my hand as tight as I gripped the rail. “Let go, you can do it.” I said, but he held on even tighter.

At some point, I realized that my fear was not only holding me back, it was holding him back too. He wasn’t going to let go and try for himself if he saw me holding on to the side.

I had to decide if I was going to spend the entire time on the sidelines only encouraging others to jump into the middle. Or was I going to jump for myself and not only give them the boost they needed, but do something new, something that made me excited and nervous at the same time.

So I did. And you know what happened?

Well first, this face happened:

That face could have been worth it all right there. But that wasn’t the only thing.

Every one of my four kids pushed themselves a bit further. Maybe they would have eventually anyway, but how much more because they saw their mom doing it too. By the end, even my five-year-old was whizzing past me, fearless.

What would have happened if I hadn’t been brave enough to step out and do something that scared me? Nothing.

That’s it. Nothing. I would have remained unchanged. I would have wished I’d been out there enjoying my family, enjoying my life. But I would have remained sitting on the sidelines if I hadn’t taken that one step and let go.

I know ice skating isn’t that big of a deal. But there are goals on my list this year that put a lump in my throat. There are things I know I should do that down right scare me. But I can’t sit on the sidelines of my own life.

What is it that you are afraid of stepping into this year?

Here’s the thing: it’s never going to get easier to take that first step. Are you willing to live under the power of your fears forever? I’m not.

So do it afraid.

Your desire for more has to be bigger than your fears. When your fears have power over you, you miss out on bigger smiles, bigger experiences, bigger victories.

Don’t let your fears keep you on the sidelines, holding onto the railing. When you let go, you’ll discover it’s not as scary as you thought. It’s just putting one foot in front of the other, little step by little step. And before you know it, you’re skating through what used to be the very thing you feared.

When my family was ready to leave, they could barely get me off the ice. I felt freer. I had found a small piece of victory over something I had put off for nearly two decades. And I decided not to waste any more time.

What are you waiting for?

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Books that I recommend on this topic (I pretty much have a book recommendation on just about everything!):

• Step: Pursuing Your Dreams In The Midst Of Everyday Life by Chris Capehart
• Living Courageously: You Can Face Anything, Just Do It Afraid by Joyce Meyers

 

 

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