There is a big hill behind my house. I enjoy watching the neighborhood kids sled down it in the winter. Yesterday I decided to climb it. When I reached the summit I could feel my heart pounding, not only from exertion, but also from fear.
I have been afraid of heights for as long as I can remember. Although I was standing on solid ground at the top of the hill, I was afraid of falling. I decided to watch the fear, like an outside observer. I listened to the stories it was telling me about how I might fall and be knocked unconscious and left for dead. I know, I know, I was 100 yards from my house and the incline was far from treacherous but that's the story the fear was telling me. As I listened in a detached and nonresistant way, the fear started to subside.
I began to enjoy moving through the tall grass as I looked out at the breathtaking view of Moscow and the surrounding hills. Then suddenly my mind was seized by a single thought, "Snakes!" Here we go again...
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