The wonder and curiosity which welcomes what is new and regards it not as threatening but enriching life – that wonder is God. The confidence which leads us to abandon the shelter of our disguises and to open up the doors of our personality so that others may enter there, and both we and they be richer for the contact – that confidence is God. The vision which enables us to see the majesty of men, of all men including ourselves, piercing through the ugliness of the obscuring pathology to the beauty of the real person – that power of wisdom is God. H. A. Williams
Consider life through the metaphor of being in a trapeze act. As we move through the air with no safety net, we find our security whilst clinging to one trapeze or another. This trapeze can be in the form of a relationship, a job, money, or even something abstract like a belief. We are most at ease in our act if we keep one hand on the present trapeze until the other hand is firmly grasping the next trapeze. But sometimes we choose or are forced to release both hands before grasping the next trapeze. We find ourselves without security, we find ourselves in mid air. Sometimes we’re not just in mid air but in the midst of a triple somersault with no sight of the next trapeze. That time between trapezes can be scary, but mid air is where the talent and creativity of the artist is revealed. The freedom to spin, tumble and flip – to fly. And like a trapeze artist, we too must embrace the freedom and exhilaration of the time between trapezes. We too must embrace living in mid air.
Everyone knows what it’s like to be halted by fear. Fear of death or serious injury can stop you from skydiving. Fear of financial loss can stop you from starting a business. Fear of ridicule can stop you from living life to your own drumbeat.
I’m sleeping peacefully when suddenly I awake for no reason. Before I know it, my head is awash with a stew of anxiety and worries, my peaceful sleep torn to shreds. Illogical, non-sensical worries that in the light of day might only garner a few seconds of thought, now loom like giant shadows of twisted monsters in an old black and white horror movie. My heart is racing and I’m overwhelmed with a feeling of claustrophobia. My warm bed is no longer comforting but now stifling, my dark room not soothing but terrifying. Even to my adult brain, in the dead of night, these tigers are as real as childhood monsters under the bed. Why am I worrying? What do I really have to fear? I know that there are no monsters under the bed or tigers in the closet, but I toss and turn for hours, relieved to finally see the first rays of dawn streaming in. These nights don’t happen often, but when they do, I remind myself that in the morning light the shadows will be swept away, the monsters will disappear and the tigers will be gone.