I am not fearless. I am so far from fearless. To me, FEARLESS isn’t a lack of fear, rather it encompasses a willingness to admit and face the scary things in life. Both concrete and ethereal. Tangible and intangible.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more of a worrier and one who doesn’t take a lot of risk. I can see disaster and or disappointment around every corner. It seems that “What if?” can only be answered by the worst that can happen – not the best. My equation always seems to end up with a negative solution in my head. In reality, rarely does the worst happen. But yet I can’t seem to let go. I know it’s a problem.
Recently, my husband finished the four-year build project on his 1965 Ford Falcon Sedan Delivery. He restored it and amped up everything on it. We now own a hot rod! Just the thought of all that power & speed & loud engine and exhaust was enough to make me sure I’d never drive it. FEAR. Nerves. Trepidation. What if… What if… What if… What if…. Nuh Huh.. not me.
But I faced my nerves with my husband in the passenger seat. I steeled myself and started the engine. Oh, this felt different, sounded different. Oh. My. Goodness. I learned how to put it in gear – it’s an automatic but there are tricks to this particular shifting mechanism. Foot securely on the brake, I put her in drive. And she just wanted to jump out of the garage. Stiff accelerator; slow push to the brakes; rear view mirror that vibrates & doesn’t stay put; low to the ground where scraping on a driveway is a concern (fear!); tiny side view mirrors combined with no – I mean NO – side visibility; and the rumble. She’s loud. Foot off the brake, to the accelerator, slight push and just like that I’m driving her. Around town and on the freeway to our first car show out of town 370 miles away.
|Thanks to my husband for taking pics of me driving Surfbird|
|Safely at the car show - she's a beauty!|
|Being FEARLESS means a reward, right????|
Maybe it will get easier with the next thing.