Thoughts on bridges.
Conquering Philly fears.
We tried to cross the Ben Franklin Bridge multiple times.
Our last attempt was a year ago, in the middle of the summer. I barely made it to the first tower, trembling and shaking, explaining that the time of day, height of my shoes (low Dansko Mary Janes), and weather were all to blame for my fear that time.
When we started at the base of the bridge, I was confident and slightly delusional that I would be okay. But, as soon as the incline sharpened and the sound of the traffic rose to meet us on the windy platform, I knew it would be impossible to climb.
I hate that I’m scared of heights.
Despite being an aerialist and feeling fine climbing a few stories on a rope or piece of fabric, standing on a tower, bridge, or mountain is paralyzing for me. I’m sure a therapist could help me figure out why this is the case.
(me, climbing in a dramatic fashion without fear last month: )
So when Brandon declared it was time to try to cross the Ben Franklin again, I was determined to find some stable footwear, drink some water, and be brave.
For those unfamiliar with this landmark, it’s a large bridge that connects Philadelphia, PA, to Camden, NJ. People use the pedestrian walkway to bike, walk, and commute between the two states. Others use it for exercise or to admire the Delaware River. Still, others use it to conquer fears, apparently.
We started up the bridge, and my daughter immediately ran ahead, jumping and screaming with delight at how “unscary” it was to cross the bridge.
I felt like I was going to pass out once we reached the first tower, only able to focus on the ground directly in front of each foot. I stood between Brandon and my son, holding their hands and shaking. Norris had to let go of my hand every few minutes because I was apparently “cutting off his circulation.”
Even as I tried to rationalize why this shouldn’t be scary to myself, it still felt terrifying. I kept praying to be at the point of incline, and Brandon asked us to stand and pose for a picture—he had a vision of creating a staggered photo of the family.
Did I appreciate the above view? NO. Not at all. I was keeping my stance as wide as humanly possible while clutching my arms, praying that the photographer would hurry UP so I could resume my death grip on Norris’ hand.
After what felt like days, we finally arrived in New Jersey. I was so proud of myself until I remembered that we’d have to walk all the way back and do it again.
But then, the strangest thing happened…
The fear dissipated. It happened for Norris, too. We noticed that halfway through our return journey, we were no longer holding hands. We were talking about other things. My breathing had slowed. I was able to appreciate the view. I wasn’t… scared?
Fear is a strange thing. I’ve written about my own relationship with fear in the past and how I’m actively trying to conquer long-held fears.
It’s easy for me to tell people to do things that don’t scare me- “Sure! You can write a book. JUST DO IT! Of course you can share your newly created original song in front of a room of strangers. What’s the big deal? Fail publicly with a new endeavor! Who cares?”
I have to remember this as I teach courses on songwriting and work with new musicians. For some of the students I work with, writing a song or sharing a personal story is their Ben Franklin Bridge. They need someone to hold their fear, not diminish it, but offer a stable hand to get them to the other side until their breathing starts to slow.
A few nights ago, I was putting Demi to bed and she opened up about a scary fall that had happened earlier that day. She broke apart completely-recounting the scary details-it wasn’t about the physical pain, it was about the feelings of “I don’t know what to do” and “I feel so alone.”
She cried; I listened. I reflected on how powerful it is to say our fears aloud —to move through the scary thoughts and diminish their power by letting someone else into the thing that makes us scared.
There are many other physical and metaphorical bridges I’ve yet to scale, but I hope I can keep letting others in when I decide it’s time to try.
Inspiration
🎧 My friend Peggy wrote an AMAZING pizza book that every needs to buy. Right now.
🎧 I’m diving back into this book that I bought a few years ago and never finished. I’ll keep you posted on my thoughts!
Creative
🌟 It’s EP demo week. EEP. That plus a recording date on the books for New Enemies in July means it’s time to get into the studio instead of just saying I’ll get into the studio. Thank you to everyone who is holding me accountable.
🌟 Brandon and I are going on a two day writing retreat in June to work on an idea we have for a movie. I’m so pumped about this cheesy premise, I can’t stop thinking about it. Get ready, Hallmark.
Thanks for subscribing and reading. I hope you tackle that bridge.
Connect with my work elsewhere:
🎧 listen to my podcast with Kimberly McGlonn
💻 order my children’s book, Rosie Rocks!
📚 visit my fair-pay publishing company, F-flat Books.
🎤 get songwriting support through Songwriting for M.E.
My friend Joanna illustrated Peggy’s book!!!