Recently, we toured the Hidee gold mine just outside of Denver, a mine rich with historical lore and artifacts. The learning aspect of the tour was right up my alley and, in that regard, I felt right at home.

My challenge was the physical environment. Armed with hard hats, we traversed the dimly lit path which was straight in places, curved in others, narrow and then wide. Soon, we descended, single file, into another part of the mine, first by stairs then down a jagged rock path. Our destination: a dead end where we could mine into the rock for gold, using a small hammer and drill bit. I distinctly remember going down the muddy steps and worrying that I might slip. When the wooden stairs stopped and the remainder of the path was just a rocky decline I worried that I would fall. Where do I put my feet? I tested different spots and, for a moment, I froze, unsure of how to descend and unable to turn back because there were people behind me.

My inside chatter was chattering: I should be able to do this…I don’t want to look weak…I’m embarrassed. Much to my chagrin, there were a handful of children on the tour, with no apparent fears or hesitations. Yet, I wanted to turn and run. 

But I didn’t…I stayed the course and did what I came to do. Learn, experience and grow. A reminder that, despite discomfort, we can do hard things. Oftentimes, I have to remind myself that “hard” is an interpretation of an experience and has nothing to do with my ability. In the end, I did not strike gold but I learned something about myself. I could do it.

So, why does this matter in the grand scheme of things? Recently, I’ve shared thoughts about moving into our third act (midlife and after) and the possibilities that can emerge from this transition. While possibilities may yield benefits they also entail risk. Risk creates uncertainty. Uncertainty can breed fear.

Creating a framework can help.

-What could go right?

-What if I misstep?  

-What is the worst thing that will happen if I do?

-How would I handle it?

And (maybe as important):

-How will I feel about myself if I don’t even take a step? 

-What will that mean for the quality of my life?

At the root of it all, possibilities involve taking a leap of faith. Sometimes, trust is all that we have. Trust that our risk is a calculated one and that we have both the skills and the support to press onward. So, here’s to taking the leap.