Trust Me

I've had the pleasure of spending some quality time with many of my friends and family over the past few weeks in order to say goodbye. Last week alone, I dropped in on old work friends, mentors, high school buddies, cousins, aunts and uncles. A comment I have been frequently getting is "How can you just leave the country for two years and move to Africa? I could never do that." Well, I suppose I really took all of those NIKE commercials to heart because --I just do it. I close my eyes and jump off that cliff (even if my friends aren't doing it). For as long as I can remember, I never just stepped outside of my comfort zone, I climbed into a cannon and shot myself way over my personal boundaries. I'll admit, it's a strange tendency and I can't really explain why I am this way. I apologize to those of you who've had to watch me do this again and again feel some anxiety over my willingness to "just do it," but believe or not, I've learned a thing or two from all of these "cannonball" experiences. Each time I stop and think a little longer about what I'm about to do and how it will effect me and my loved ones. I weigh the pros and cons and sometimes I even consult the audience.

Case in point:
When I was in Australia I was out of it. I was pretty much a space cadet for an entire month, but occasionally I had moments of clarity.

One day when the boys were out rounding up the herd to bring into the yards, I was back at camp with Cathy, the boss' wife. Cathy had the fantastic idea that I climb up on the water tower to get a great areal view of the herd as they stampeded into camp in a cloud of dust (much like the tragic scene in the Lion King). I looked at the rickety, rusted slats of metal that I was to use as a ladder and looked back at Cathy.
"I used to do it all the time at farm school," she said to assure me.
"All the way to the top? That's like 3 stories!" not trying to sound too impressed.
"Ya."
Well I didn't want to look like a wuss so, hand over hand, I climbed up. The ladder shook every time I took another step. I stopped about half way up and pulled out my camera with one hand. It slipped and as I reached for it, I nearly fell backwards. I clung to the tower with both arms and shook while thoughts of my broken body on the ground bellow ran through my head. Cathy was at the bottom looking up. "Go higher!"

I thought about all the people who asked me to be careful and how angry they would be if my demise was in pursuit of a cool picture.

"No, I can't!" I said and started to climb down.
"Why not?"

I didn't answer and just walked away. I ended up getting a pretty cool picture from the roof of the barn, but Cathy continuously reminded me that it would've been better from the TOP of the water tower. So there you have it. It IS in me to walk away.

So to all of you worriers: I'm asking you to trust me. Trust that I have had plenty of time think through this one (much more time than I ever wanted). Yes, I have been reckless with my safety in the past but I have learned from those mistakes. Trust that with every decision I make, I not only think about how it's going to effect me, but also how it could effect those important people in my life. I promise I'll be careful.