Thoughts from the Mountain

On a recent mountain bike ride, I was struck by how fulfilling taking risks has always been to me. As I navigated a tricky, rocky downhill section, I was aware of the potential to fall, yet I was confident in my ability to get through it unscathed. The slight risk was worth the fun and the feeling of competence that came with making it down. 

In college, I walked on to a Division I diving team, not because I knew how to dive, but because I had always wanted to learn. The coach patiently taught me a full diving list in the first two months of the fall and then invited me to join the team. My junior year, I walked into the boathouse and asked if I could row crew. It looked like an interesting challenge and I wanted to try it. The coach graciously accepted me onto the freshman team, and I competed all over the Northeast in an eight-woman boat. My senior year, I walked onto a theater stage and sang a solo in a student-written musical, something I had never done before (I am by no means a singer). 

While I was a little bit scared, my curiosity always won — What would it be like to experience this new thing? Would I be able to rise to the occasion? Who could I become if I pushed myself out of my comfort zone? 

I use this same approach when I am coaching clients through moments of risk and the unknown. Not everyone’s version of a risk looks like walking onto a Division I team or singing a solo on stage — and it doesn’t need to! What I help clients find is their own growth edge: the specific point where nerves and excitement meet.

It is a human trait to be nervous and afraid, but what if we could steer our attention toward curiosity and excitement, instead? The person waiting on the other side of this leap is worth meeting.