This is a first.

Woke up this morning thinking about the last time I tried something for the first time. (Sheltering in place, sanitizing groceries and parenting through a pandemic don’t count for this particular exercise.) Conclusion: it’s been a really long time.

For my 40th birthday (more than a few years ago), I went to Red Horse Mountain Ranch in Idaho to let my inner cowgirl ride free for a few days. For the most part, I rode as much as I could. But one afternoon, I decided to try the 60-foot climbing wall.

The instructor sent us up in pairs and my climbing buddy was a 70-year-old woman who was half my height and a former race horse jockey. She was a tough cookie. The two of us started out at the same time, with everybody on the ground cheering us on.

All was going well until about half-way up. That’s when the tears started and the panic set in. I couldn’t hear anybody on the ground anymore. All I heard was my breathing – shallow, fast, hard. I stopped climbing and pressed my body to the wall. My feet balancing on two small blocks and my fingers gripping two more. I was dizzy from indecision and frozen by fear of falling.

So I had to make a choice: Let go and give up OR keep climbing. It took everything I had to dry my sweaty hand on my leggings and reach for the next block. By the time I got to the top where my climbing buddy had been waiting so long she could have finished her second martini, my entire body was shaking from deep inside. I don’t think I’d ever been so proud of myself. I felt strong and powerful and resilient.

Life right now feels like that climbing wall and I’m about half-way up, shaking and sweating and wondering how much longer until the top. But that’s the thing about accomplishing something for the first time. Once you’ve done it, you know you can do it again. Even if it’s painful. Even if it’s hard.

NOW ONTO THIS WEEK’S FEEL-GOOD CLICKS