DO PRESS YOUR LUCK!

A Hill in Marin
Photo by Lorna Sass, c. 2012

I’ve been spending some time in Northern California, Marin to be exact. 

It’s rainy season in this beautiful county just across the Golden Gate, but I grabbed a slice of time between showers to go hiking in the hills.  I climbed up to the ridge and saw the valley sprawling below covered by dark foreboding clouds that promised an imminent deluge.

I loved being up there.  The wind was whistling with excitement and expectancy, but soon my mind became  filled with dread: “Don’t press your luck,” a bossy inner voice yelled, “Get down off this hill before the rains come and you get drenched!”

Who was issuing these commands?  I knew in a flash that it was my parents, back from the dead to protect me against imminent danger.

So I dismissed the voices and walked on.  Then the wind grew stronger and the voices yelled even louder:  “It’s going to get muddy and you may trip and fall on the way down.  You could break a bone and you’ll certainly get filthy.”

The wind whipped through me, bringing strength and clarity. Suddenly I understood that the biggest danger of all was to give in to these frightened, cautionary commands.  Now in my sixth decade, I could parent myself and go against the rules.  

Yes, I would do an about-face and press my luck.  I’d stay up there as long as I felt like, and I’d think of the steep hill as a friendly place, not a mud-slide in disguise.

In case you are wondering dear reader, I made it down just fine: no mud, no rain, no broken bones. 

More importantly, I learned that that the real adventure of life begins when I feel safe even when dark clouds hover overhead.