Facing Dragons

I'm really not much of a traveler. So the idea of taking that trip to Connecticut had my nerves on edge. I enjoy flying a lot. But it's that part about getting the ticket, the boarding pass, checking the luggage and getting through airport security that gets me all balled up. Not sure why, but it does. I get real, real quiet. Any extra noise / talking / chatter sets my teeth on edge.

But you know ... I did it. Going there and coming home.

Having stepped through that process with the help of family on one end and friend on the other, I feel a bit more sure. I have a firmer belief that I can figure out how to do it the next time the opportunity presents itself.

I suppose the same thing can be said about learning a new needlework finishing technique. I can read instructions, follow the images, work out how to do it in my head. I can gather all the supplies. Then ... I get stuck. I don't want to get discouraged by all there is to learn. I want to confidently jump in and try the new technique.

But I freeze, believing — or fearing? — that I'll mess up some step and not be able to recover from the error. It's quite an unreasonable belief that I won't be able to figure out the next step. So I stall before I ever get started.

But if I can just push forward, I usually can find a creative way out of any jam I get in. Even if the finished piece doesn't come out with the precise results I had in mind, I usually do manage to get passable results.

I call pushing past these types of self-doubts "facing dragons." Learning to face and conquer one kind of dragon can often translate into facing another kind. If I can find the courage to just trust myself once, the next time I'm asked to trust my judgment, it might be just that much easier.

It's odd to have lived a half century and still be grappling with such an unreasonable fear. But step by baby step, I continue to face these dragons. Oft times I learn that they are not dragons at all.

They're just little lizards.