I woke up this morning to a beautiful sunshiny day, blue sky, the promise of proper coffee, (Poppy went shopping) and Wham! on the radio. Despite this near perfect awakening I had a funny feeling in my stomach. Not the kind of funny feeling you get when you’ve eaten a dodgy kebab, (obviously this has never happened to me, three times) but the kind of funny feeling you get when you’re not quite sure of your footing. A little bit unsettled. A little bit scary. A little bit exciting.
The above picture is of me standing at the top of one of my greatest childhood fears; The Escalator. “Come on Poppy” mum would say. “What’s the worst thing that can happen?”
I thought I would trip and fall, I thought it would gobble me up, I thought it would suck me underground in Marks and Spencer and I’d have to eat BLT sandwiches forever more. (No bad thing).
|Pic from lifeinthemiddle|
Everyone else was sailing up and down with enviable ease. Even BOYS. But that’s the thing… what’s scary for Poppy may not be scary for someone else. (Especially when it comes to Kite Surfing…. but that’s a whole other story.)
I conquered my escalator fear that day and I love that my dad caught it on camera. You can see me psyching myself up. Poppy Pep Talk. And Leap.
I’ve taken a few leaps recently and sometimes the Poppy Wobbles kick in. (That is not a medical term by the way, your GP won’t have heard of it.) So I had a little Poppy Pep talk this morning – a word in my ear, a pat on my back and a high five in the mirror. ‘You’re doing fine, Poppy’ said I. And I am.
My fear of moving stairs, (fair enough when you put it like that) meant I had to stand still, while everyone else moved around me enjoying the ride.
I knew I had to leap. Jump. Feel the fear and do it anyway. And that’s what I’m doing now.