What's With The Shoes?

One step.

One moment.

One heartbeat at a time.

Tunnel. Light.

We hear the phrase..
How old were you when the "there's always a light at the end of the tunnel" or "keep going, there will soon be a light at the end of that tunnel" or "find the light at the end of your tunnel" wisdoms started peppering your life's steak as it was being grilled?

We remember the big (insert silence and fear) tunnels from yesterday.
What happened to cause that bridge or overpass to turn into a tunnel, and the light behind you from where you entered to no longer light the path ahead to the wide opening in front of you?

We can feel the memory of sleepless nights and flinch from the echo of that freight train's roar from long ago.
Where did you find the tunnel in your life that finally was long, dark, twisting, and terrifyingly numbing beyond belief?

When did you learn that the light at the end of your tunnel might actually be a freight train coming your way?

We instinctively reach out to that person that decided for us if we should hold steady instead of ducking for cover.
Who did you turn to for help in discovering if it's a light of hope, or a light of "oh-oh here-it-comes"?

My challenge to you, as we take these steps together on this grassy background, is to consider each of those questions and bolded thoughts one step further.

Yes. There's a light at the end of the tunnel.
There always was.
There always will be.
Yesterday's tunnels have been walked, navigated, crawled, or even scraped through already.
By you.
That flinch, that distant echoing roar is the fear of the fear of the maybe of having the possibility of leaving your comfort zone.
(Reread that: Fear of fear. Maybe of the possibility. Comfort zone. Distant echo.)
You
saw the light.
You
kept going.
You learned.
You
felt.
You ducked.
You ran.
You peeked through the cracks in the fingers of your outstretched hand to make out the train or blue sky instead.

One day you'll learn that the freight train coming your way is conducted by that lizard brain of yours.
Ol'lizard with his stupid conductor hat on doesn't just want you along for the ride, it wants you to picture yourself face-first in the locomotive.

Keep that in mind the next time you start palming your way along the walls of your next tunnel. You'll need more practice. You'll need more tunnels to face. When you see that light at the end of the tunnel, and you're not sure? Smile. Get ready to face it head on.

Derail the fear.

Keep going.