Interpretation by Amanda Scholz : Materials: stitching on paper with ink.
I confess — I’m more of a “Have Fear” type of person rather than one of those scowling, muscular “No Fear” types.
Example: When I was around nine I climbed the high dive platform but when I got to the top I froze. The water suddenly looked deeper than a black hole. I could see all of the drainage grates. People who were normally a lot larger than me suddenly looked very small, very fragile, and very breakable. If they look breakable, I thought to myself as I stared down at the solid cement floor of the pool, then I’m screwed.
I felt dizzy and wobbly-kneed. I was terrified to jump. I would not jump. I could not jump. No amount of coaxing or teasing or shaming could make me jump. I looked at all of those very tiny, very mean people who were yelling at me from way, way, way down there in the cold, blue water and thought, I would rather die slowly on this platform than jump and scream and shatter into pieces once I hit that cement floor.
Eventually one of the nice life guards climbed the ladder, put her arms around me, walked with me toward the edge of the diving platform and together (sort of) we jumped.
She kind of pushed me. And she let go of me in mid-air, but — I didn’t die. I splashed and gasped and cried and lived to tell the story.
I still don’t like high dive platforms, but sooner or later I always seem to find myself standing at the top of one — you know, in the metaphorical sense. And when that happens I say myself — Holy crap, I’m terrified!!!! But…I can jump (with help). And I can survive.
And so can you. 😘 XOXO