Heart Hope by Olga

Thanks to Carolyn Connolly for the picture Adventure Ridge Ropes Course on Vail Mountain can be challenging to the body, mind and nerves, so I found it amusing that I was laughing at myself, especially at that height. I had maneuvered the swinging logs, the crisscross wooden planks and the sliding steps. I had carefully rappelled from the first level safely to the ground. Scaling the steps to the second platform while trying to keep my fears in check I looked ahead to see how I should problem solve my way across the next set of challenges. I made it through the swinging bridge and the tightrope with the safety harness intact, but the final element looked daunting. There were short ropes between PVC towers perpendicular to the wire crossing. Hmmm...  What should I do with this one? Advice from the attendant was requested and I was instructed to hug the PVC pipe as I crossed the thin wire.  It was comforting to grab the pipe, but it was too far to reac...

I’m rather used to seeing critters on the path as I walk. The beautiful foxes scurry quickly and the snakes basking in the sun slither away slowly. Even marmots tuck tail and run to snuggle in the rocks and wait for me to pass, but I was somewhat startled by the tiny little mouse that ran by me on the trail. The dark gray creature appeared to be a baby at about 1.5 inches long plus tail, so why did my heart skip a beat as it stopped, glanced up at me and seemed to want to chase me down? I could have squashed the rodent with one small step, so why did he stir up fear in me? Mice aren’t big or fierce, dangerous or deadly. Instead they are kind of cute. From an early age we are taught to fear through incidents that happen to us or by words expressed by others.   We may be afraid of horses if we have been bucked off of one. We may not try new and different experiences, if someone is always standing over our shoulders saying, “Be careful!” But most fears are unfoun...

The water cooler talk in the office today seemed to revolve around the police probably because a co-worker had to appear in court for not having the proper sticker on her license tag. She had to drive 35 miles round-trip for the summons to sit for a couple of hours waiting to get her fine for an offense that had already been resolved. Everyone at work had a story of an encounter with the police in some way or other; a few shared their stories while others decided not to confess their misdeeds. The one common thread was that for some reason when we come in contact with a police officer we become frightened that we are doing something wrong. Knuckles turn white on the steering wheel, palms become sweaty, and we try to “look” innocent (even if we really are). Why do we have that fear and dread? Is it because of past experiences? Or could it be of tales that we have heard? Or was it that our parents taught us to fear the police by using them as the scapegoat when disciplin...

On the news this morning I heard that 10 people had to be rescued from a 60 foot Ferris wheel after an observant carnival worker noticed a split in one of the parts and immediately stopped the ride to prevent further damage. I had to chuckle to myself, thinking back to my childhood days. My best friend, Gail, loved Ferris wheels, so one September evening at the State Fair, she convinced me to ride with her. I approached the double wheel ride with great apprehension, but was assured by Gail that it would be great. As the wheel began turning I was so terrified that I didn’t even make it around one of the rotations of the smaller wheel before I was screaming and pleading to the ride operator to let me off. Apparently I was convincing enough because he stopped it just for me to get off. Standing on solid ground, shaking from the event, I watched Gail ride it all alone in awe, wishing that I was that brave. This fear of heights followed me into my adulthood, so when my daughters were small ...