Fear is something I've learned to live with over the years; it seems to have grown more intense as I age, not less.
I used to be pretty fearless on a horse. I could, and would, ride pretty much anything, anywhere, anytime, and feel good about it. Then I got older, hit the dirt a few times, had kids, and got scared.
It's been a hard thing to learn to live with, to deal with. It's been hard to listen to what fear has to tell me without letting it master me completely. We don't like to admit it, but fear does tell us something. It was meant to keep us alive, and keep us safe, after all. Being scared to jump off a cliff is perfectly reasonable, since a fall could cause us a great deal of harm. But sometimes it's not so simple, and we fear a thing because of the risk, even though the risk might not even be harmful. We fear things like change, even though change can bring us something incredible just as easily as something terrible.
When it came to fear, I made a rule for myself. It's not very "cowboy" and some of you are probably going to cringe. But my rule for riding is, if I'm too scared, or uncertain, or assess a risk and find it to be too much, I get off.
Someone I respect and admire once told me she's not too proud to get off and walk a horse, and she's about as cowboy as they come, so I've lived by the same motto. I'm not too proud. Furthermore, I owe it to my kids to be cautious, to be careful, so that I can come home to them whole and well and able to care for them in the way they deserve and to the best of my ability. I can't afford a wreck.
But you know what else I owe my kids? I owe it to them to lead by example in living boldly, chasing down the things you love even when it's hard, and pushing the edges of our comfort zone, because so much cool stuff happens in the areas where we might be less than comfortable.
So here's the other half of the rule. I get back on.
It's the balance between grit, and grace. I allow myself the grace to get off. It's not quitting, it's just retreat. Assess, regroup, evaluate, think through the problem. It keeps me safe, and it keeps my horse safe, and it keeps me the best horseman I can be because letting fear consume us is no way to make good horses, let alone enjoy them.
The grit is in the getting back on. I don't walk home. I don't end it there. I keep riding until I can get a good note to end on. That's the standard. I can get off, but then I have to get back on.
I think this is applicable to a lot of things in life. There's a misconception that we must exist in extremes: you either keep going or you quit. You ride that horse or you get off it. But life is rarely so black and white, and it's okay to exist in the gray sometimes, to find the middle ground, to take a pause to rest, evaluate.
As long as you try again, you're not quitting. As long as you keep going at it, you're not giving up. It's okay to have grace for yourself. So if nobody's told you, I'm here to say, it's okay. You're okay.
You can step off. Just make damn sure you get back on.