I read somewhere, “Don’t let the fear of striking out, keep you from playing the game.”
Very deep, very profound.
Or is it?
When I look back to the games I’ve played, to the strike outs I’ve had, it really is my fear that stood in my way and nothing else.
So let’s have it.
The fear of the game. Nay, we do not fear defeat itself. What we fear is an inept audience that will be disappointed if we do not perform well. We practice in solitude, but out there, in the stadium, when the crowd cheers, when the horn blows, when the bell sounds: that moment. That momentary feeling of fleeting nervousness and stagnant fear that rises up our throats and settles in our mouth. Breathless seconds of waiting, passing minutes of impatient feet stamping.
The game itself is a metaphor for so many things. Examination results, a job placement, a minute of bated breath before she accepts your proposal, the darkness before the movies begins, the first line of the last page of a book or of course, life itself.
So pray tell me, if you know you’ll lose, won’t you at least try and win? Won’t you at least try and turn the tables in your favor?
Or is it really fear, or is it just our human nature? Either way, it is our brainchild.
Let’s begin to erase fear and let’s begin to dare. Dare to walk into the sunset, dare to try a new dish, dare to change your look. Dare ♥