What if everything you’ve been through thus far was just leading up to this very moment?

What if all you had to do to reach the other side, to get what you really want, was to take a leap of faith?

I finally figured out what I never could when I was young: to be an adult, a whole integral person, you have to make mistakes, get off course, endure discomfort, and doubt yourself. You have to endure.

And you have to take action, even when you’re scared.

Every year I try something daring, because facing down fear is how great things start.

I climb big, dangerous mountains. And run ultra-marathons. I scuba dive.  I’ve flown a flimsy looking helicopter. Even braver, I got remarried to a man who insists on knowing what I really feel.  I went back to school to get a degree in something I love. And I give talks in public, to roomfuls of breathing people. People who are conscious, who look discerning.

Being afraid—and in all of these things I’ve been very, very afraid— only means you’re on the edge of a powerful breakthrough. You’re ready to become so much more than you are.

I went to a Tony Robbins event recently.  Now Tony is a pretty big proponent of facing down fears, which is probably why he resonates with me.  In his introductory course, he has folks walk on fire barefoot, which doesn’t sound so bad, until you’re next in line and it’s time to take the first step.

This time, he had us climbing up big, tall telephone poles and leaping into thin air to grab at a trapeze.  Belay rope or not, this act of faith scared the crap out of me.

Here’s a video to prove it.

I’ve been thinking about what this most recent leap of faith means in my life.  And where it’s easy enough to check off the try-something-daring box so I can “conquer” my fear of heights, I realized I learned something else.  Something really big.

It’s really hard to let go.

It’s really hard to trust that, when you throw yourself off some ridiculously unpleasant, shaky pole, there’s going to be something else out there to grab on to, something to break your fall.

What a metaphor for life.

Isn’t this why we hang on to dead end relationships?

Isn’t this why we cling to our children when they no longer need us?

Isn’t this why we muddle through another day at the office when we can’t stand our boss, or our job obligations?

Isn’t this why we give into our addictions—why we stay fat, or broke, or anesthetized with booze—even though we know better?

If we let go of these things, as unsatisfactory as they are, what out there will break our fall?

Who, or what, is going to catch us when we need it most?

As my mother was always so fond of saying, “Better the devil we know, then the devil we don’t.”  A sad testament to her need for certainty. (I’m sure you too can relate.)

But something miraculous happened when I made that jump.  I was so, so scared (funny for someone who has walked an icy ridge line the width of a knife).  But I worked up the guts (actually, I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of other people by crawling down) to make the leap.  And while I didn’t catch the bar, I didn’t die either.  I made it down to the ground and had a good laugh.  Then I encouraged other people to do the same crazy thing.

We need to trust that there’s something out there on the other side.  We need faith to let go of those things in our life that no longer serve.

You can’t go anywhere good until you LET GO.

You have to let go of the crap in order to make room for all the joy that’s waiting for you.

I know it’s hard, Darling, believe me I do.  But it’s time. To. Let. Go.

Have faith.  Something bigger than you has got your back.  You will be fine. You will be loved. I promise.