The Refrains We Inherit
And the Ones We Choose to Rewrite
Thankfully, the lilies are growing tall, covering the jagged rock placed by landscapers before we moved into this house.
While it’s earthy & beautiful, those spikey edges give me pause.
I have grandchildren who love to climb.
One is a graceful ballerina with perfect balance who also loves to scale great heights on weak tree limbs or pointy rocks.
I’ve heard the psychology warning us not to keep admonishing, “Be careful” because you don’t want to stunt their growth by piling on a bag of fears to carry around.
Another child, the youngest boy, must run circles around the property, inside or out, for a good portion of any one visit.
This is healthy, I know, but I must physically hold my mouth shut for how many warnings want to shoot out.
“Slow down!”
“Don’t jump off the deck railings!”
And, “Absolutely, NEVER ever climb on that rock!”
I would have climbed it as a child too, though.
I would have stood on one foot showing off my good balance.
No fear back then in the early years.
You?
But all I can think of now is one of them falling and slamming their head on the jagged protrusions.
I must warn them to avoid a very real catastrophe.
But they don’t listen anyway. Not because they’re rebellious—they are simply fearless, active young people.
And that’s a good thing. Most of the time.
I went from a fearless child to one who couldn’t win against all the fears filling up my backpack.
My mom never held back any warnings. She might go so far as to say (I have trouble even repeating it),
“Don’t go there or someone might slit your throat.”
Or the more minor but still descriptive one I refrain from saying to my grandkids:
“Don’t stand on that rock or you might crack your head open.”
What chance did I have against fears playing on the ticker in my head?
And how does one overcome those types of refrains?
➡️ You have to try balancing. Even if on a precarious ground.
➡️You have to try a different refrain. And you have to repeat it often.
I have decided to stand with my children & teach them to hold on when balancing on such a rock or when climbing a tree.
Maybe have a spotter with you.
And teach them how to fall. Catching yourself and breaking a wrist would be painful, yes, but it’s better than a traumatic head injury.
I mean these are real possibilities, but let’s root them in medical terminology, not fearful imagery that you can’t get out of your mind very easily.
And all of this physical strength-training applies to real-life issues later on.
If we constantly tell them (or ourselves) not to try…
~not to conquer difficult challenges…
~not to stand tall even on foundations that seem shaky or dangerous…
The self-fulfilling prophecy will occur and we will live without courage.
Like I did in recent years when I felt too fearful to face the truth of my past.
I do not want to be ruled by fear.
I’m sure you don’t either.
We must speak to it with intention: You (Fear) do not control me.
Maybe that’s what Take every thought captive means.
I had to do that very thing (take every thought captive) in order to publish my book.
I think the story might inspire you to conquer your fears too—mainly the fear of facing your past & forgiving those from whom you inherited some unwanted baggage.
You can find the book at this LINK 🔗My Father’s Daughter
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Damn that rock, Shel! I love that you are conquering your own fears by teaching your grandkids ways to avoid danger.
This speaks to me in both the past as a child and the present as a mom!