Daring to dream, 

what does that really mean?

Taking the risk

Quelling that voice that shouts, 

"Who do you think you are?"

Pushing past well-meaning 

friends and family who express 

their fears of your likely failure 

and the hurt it will cause you.

They think it's love, and 

they really do love you.

But just as young parents want to 

shield their little ones from hurt

there's a tendency to sigh and say, 

"Are you sure? What if..." and that 

"What if?" doesn't go to the brightest 

but rather the darkest possibilities.

I know that feeling myself, 

wanting to shield my kids from hurt or

disappointment, and cringing inside

when they pushed themselves

to try hard, against-the-odds, goals. 

I was terrified they would fail and be thrown

off the mountain into the bone heap below.

We all know that tendency to protect

based on our own fear of failure,

our own experience of giving up rather than

finding ourselves in that humiliating bone heap.

We are certain that is the worst possibility 

instead of realizing that failure (if it indeed happens)

is sweetly-salved if it comes from 

taking a real risk.

We all take tumbles, big and small, and

manage to get up and right ourselves.

Sometimes the fall is harder, 

especially if the climb

has consumed our every moment.

 But the satisfaction of having tried

is laud-worthy in itself, and 

we are changed by the journey. 

Wiser, stronger, closer to our true selves.

Perhaps that's the purpose of risk, 

to move ever closer to our authentic self. 

Not the one others will accept 

just to keep us safe, 

but a brazen soul who 

trusts the inner voice that whispers, 

"Do it. It's right for you."