Developing a Better You

What Dangling Thirty Feet in the Air Taught Me About Trust

It was a really dumb thing to do. In my defense, I was standing on a small wooden platform 30 feet up a tree. Given that I’m not a fan of heights, the logical part of my brain was not fully engaged. I was on a high ropes course, the kind that has zip lines, wire walks, and other obstacle course elements suspended far above the forest floor. It’s basically a torture device.

So I stood there with a thin wire running from a harness at my waist to an equally thin wire above my head. And I was supposed to step off the platform. I could’ve backed out, of course. But that would have meant a humiliating climb back down the 30 foot ladder in front of the group of students I was supposedly leading on this excursion. Not a very attractive alternative.

Who’s dumb idea was this trip anyway? I thought. Then I remembered it was my dumb idea. Helpful.

I suddenly came up with a brilliant plan. It was genius. I would simply wrap the support line connecting me to the overhead wire around my hand. That way, if the line somehow magically disconnected from my harness, I would have a good grip and save myself from plunging to my death.

So it was with a sigh of relief that I stepped off the platform. And then the full weight of my 6’ 3” frame cranked the support line tight around my hand. My palm felt like it was pinned under a semi. Gasping in pain and realizing my stupidity, I wrenched my hand free. Dangling unceremoniously from a cable that could have easily held a small elephant, one clear thought penetrated the fog of pain and humiliation – I should have trusted the wire.

Reflecting back, I realized that the cause of my anxiety and pain was not actually fear. It was lack of trust. The reason I was knock-kneed on the platform and in serious pain after stepping off it was because I didn’t trust the line to hold me. I should have. The camp had a great reputation and safety record, the facilitators were trained and experienced, and the equipment was tested and tried. Even so, I chose not to trust.

Have you ever tried to hedge your bets? Play both sides? Put one foot into a fluid situation while attempting to keep the other firmly on solid ground? How did that work out for you? Obviously there are times and situations where it pays to be cautious. But there are also times when we just have to choose to trust. To step out. To risk. To dive in. With a relationship. With a business venture. With an unexpected opportunity.

So how do you know the difference? How can you tell when to be appropriately cautious and when to take the risk? By asking yourself one simple question – is this worthy of my trust? For me on that ropes course, it was. I paid the price for not going all in.

As you look at your life, where are you holding back in giving trust? With another person? Yourself? Your abilities? Your dreams? Are they worthy of trust? If so, what would it mean to take the risk and step off the platform? What good could come of it, for you and for others? Choose wisely, then take the leap. If you do, you’ll take another big step toward Becoming Yourself.

This post was originally published July 27, 2019

4 Comments

  1. Bill Konigsberg

    Great post. I think the question “is this worthy of my trust” is a fine one, and one that I need to implement in my daily life. And once that criteria is met, I think that wholehearted living requires us to step off the ledge and not walk back down the ladder. Thanks for this!

    • Matt McMann

      Thanks so much for that Bill! I’m so glad it connected with your day to day reality in a helpful way. Your comment is such a good summary of what I was trying to say. You should be a writer! 🙂

  2. Squeaky

    I spent a summer as a camp counselor. My primary duty (other than supervising kids) was to work on a high ropes course – either on a small platform 30 feet up in the air, or on a small platform 65 feet up in the air. My job was to help kids learn to trust the wire.

    What we found was that despite the number of times we showed the kids examples of how strong the wires were and how the rope in their carabiner would keep them safe even if the wire failed, they were still convinced that somehow, all of these things would fail ONLY WHEN THEY WERE ON THE COURSE. We all have the illusion that the laws of physics can be overruled by our fear.

    Fear is a powerful thing. As humans, when life confronts us with something we fear, we become irrational and cling to whatever’s comfortable, like a frightened child seeking refuge in her blanket. The more unpredictable life is, the more we dig in to our old patterns. The blanket doesn’t change what’s happening, but it provides the illusion of safety – a guide line. It’s what we do at that point that’s important, that defines us.

    We might choose to remain crouched in a safe cocoon with our blanket covering us while outside the maelstrom howls. Some people live their entire lives this way, forever on guard against the next thunderclap.

    Or we might take the blanket with us as we venture out into the storm…and discover that the thunder and lightning have a beauty and power all their own (even if we’re still a little scared of them). It is when we refuse to be ruled by our fear that we start to glimpse our potential.

    • Matt McMann

      Squeaky, that is an awesome point and beautifully articulated. Thanks so much for taking the time to share that and to give us some first hand insight into the life of a high-ropes course instructor 🙂 All the best.

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