My big leap felt very natural, not daring at all. But to me, true daring is being willing to leap, to jump off of things-cliffs, rooftops, high dives, planes (although that would be ‘out of’ not ‘off of’). Me? I am not a jumper (sometime I’ll tell you about my experience on an eight-foot-high ledge at the Blue Hole in Santa Rosa), and perhaps because of that I am fascinated by those who will leap from heights.
No, my leap was simply one of faith. You see, I have known plenty who spoke of ‘being burned’ in love, of being heartbroken, plenty who swear to never love again or are strongly afraid to trust another. I could have taken that path. I had enough heartache to want to bury my heart in the sand and leave it. I had experience after experience of partners who did not bring out the best in me; quite the opposite. (to be fair, I may not have brought out the best in them)…
But that is also my point, of heartache not heartbreak: my heart was not broken, it was just kicked around like a half-inflated soccer ball, and I allowed that.
But I never let myself believe that I would not love again. I never built a wall around my heart, or committed to permanent bachelorhood. I did not go hunting for true love, perhaps I had no idea that it was real. But neither did I rule out the possibility of loving again.
Then, after a long, long, painful decade of misplaced affections, something happened. A magical spirit appeared in my life, a loving person with a playful sense of humor, someone who was simply a friend, a wonderful friend who accepted me and had no expectations. We spent time together and got to know each other. In the process, and because we dared to be open, true love revealed itself.
I am afraid of heights, irrationally and completely. But I am not afraid to feel; being daring emotionally allows me to be open to what the universe has to offer. And it has offered up the most beautiful love I could have imagined.