What Would You Do if You Weren't Afraid?

My family moseyed on up the field where our church community group was gathering with our lawn chairs and cookies. I was looking forward to hanging out and chatting with my girlfriends on a glorious spring day. This group is the best kind of chatty. There were plenty of kids around so I knew my own brood would be easily occupied, and I could hang out with little distraction.

My family came in jeans. I wore my Chaco’s. It took my husband about 10 minutes to realize everyone else was wearing workout style clothes and sneakers. It’s a casual group. We have a couple of personal trainers among us, and some of the group even meets to workout during the week, so this wasn’t abnormal. I made a mental note to self, “yoga pant friendly crowd! Yes!”

When a few more families arrived, I realized several of the adults were “organizing.” Then I remembered the group email, there was talk about playing a game of kick ball during this outing. My first thought was, the kids are gonna love to play. Except now it appeared that EVERYONE was going to play kickball. Ev.ree.one.

Then they began picking teams and bad memories of middle school P.E. class surfaced. I held out hope that a few women would sit out, and we’d chat while the men folk played. Yeah… that didn’t happen either. With the exception of a few little girls that went to explore the nearby pond, ev.ree.one. was going to play kickball.

I began to get nervous. Also, I’d worn sandals.

I fantasize about being a roller derby girl, but that is as far as my athleticism goes. Fantasy. I currently hold the record for having my glasses broken the most times in Junior high school P.E. It’s true. I was that kid. Also, I have raised those kids. We all lean more geek than we do jock. Besides a couple of short soccer seasons, we don’t really “do” sports. Don’t get me wrong, we play. We like the outdoors. We are just more likely to take a nice hike than toss a ball.

And so, with my lack of athletic ability and my sandals, I was starting to feel like a really awkward fish out of water. To give you an idea of the crew we were playing with, this guy was on my team.

But I still agreed to play, and our team was up to kick first.

The plan was to alternate kids and adults at the plate. My 4 year old, Johnny, went just before me. If there is going to be a jock in my family, I’m going to predict it is this kid. He was so excited. Everyone was cheering for him. He kicked that ball as hard as he could, and as we all yelled and encouraged him to run to his right toward first base, he grinned, and ran left after the ball he had just kicked because dude… there was a ball to play with!!!!

I laughed so hard.

We finally talked him into getting to first base and both teams gave him a round of high fives.

I, in my sandals, was up to kick next. It was a lousy kick, but I didn’t realize it untill well after we coaxed Johnny to 2nd base and then all the way in for a “home run”.

I guess I was having… fun?

Then, when our team headed to the field, they asked me to pitch. (Is that even what you call it in kickball?) I seriously looked behind me to see who they were really asking to pitch. But there was no one behind me.

I laughed, and took the ball to the pitchers plate. Then, as a total shock to myself, I continued to have serious fun with this crazy new community of friends… for the next hour and a half! I’ve never had so much fun losing a game in my life. Although no one said it, I’m pretty sure I was a terrible kickball pitcher, because we lost by a lot.

Somehow, as I went beyond the borders of my comfort zone, and in spite of my reservations and footwear, I was in the game. I wasn’t only in the game, but I was even having a good time. Like, a really good time… in spite of… myself.

This weekend, I accidentally tripped across the line of my comfort zone. It happened without much of a fight. I was with a crew that made it easy, and they didn’t even know they caught me when I stumbled. Maybe you are walking with someone that is having a hard time getting out of that comfort zone? Have you thought about how to make it easier for them?

This all got me thinking of all the times I didn’t say yes to the game. And how much fun I have missed in my life because I was afraid of falling. And maybe, how I can help someone else feel comfortable doing something scary.

Have you done something lately that scared you? If so, tell me. If not, then what would you do if you weren’t afraid?

Sasha Johns is married to her chiropractor and doing her best to homeschool three little kids. She writes for middleplaces.com on Tuesdays, and recreates new things with old things at True Vine Gifts. You can catch her daily antics with family and art on Instagram when you look her up as middlesistersasha.