I am terrified of many things: spiders, tornadoes, heights, and failure, among others. Maybe I’m the only person in mountainous, western Pennsylvania who once packed a tornado survival kit, or the only being in the last 65 million years who lay awake in fear of the extinct T. Rex (Thanks, Jurassic Park). I know for certain, though, that we all fear something. Maybe you also slip on your bathroom rug as you run, shampoo covering your hair, from a spider the size of a grain of sand (which you proceed to torch with the nearest hairspray you can find.) We all have silly stories of times we encountered our worst fears face to face, and believe me, in the heat of the moment, when you hear that bee buzz past your ear, fear is absolutely valid (even if that bee turns out to be your friend pranking you.) Fear is a survival trait that compels our instincts to take over from our slower, logical side, so that when a bear is chasing us, we act without the wasted time of thinking. It can also hold us back in life, hurt our confidence, and forbid our success. Conquering our fears, such as my own fear of heights, will improve the quality of our lives and reduce the wrinkles and grey hairs when those appear.

Throughout the past year, I held in the back of my mind the fact that at the top of the hill, beyond the hospitals and the Petersen Events Center, Trees Hall has a climbing wall. I have always been afraid of heights (even as I grew to savor the thrill of roller coasters.) More deeply, however, I have longed to reach the top of a climbing wall. So many times I would try but look down to find the exaggerated bottomless pit of fifteen feet, and halt my journey. But that was a long time ago, when I was a child, and I felt a renewed sense of bravery and adventure. Finally, at some point during my summer classes, I had enough of “thinking about it.” I put on my sneakers, my TARDIS t-shirt, and peace-sign spandex (I used to row in high school, so most of my athletic shorts are vibrant spandex), and I hiked to Trees.

It took me a little while to find the climbing wall, in its enclosure behind the basketball court. I walked by the bleachers, my eyes straight ahead as I acted as confident as possible, but forgive me, there were hot basketball players looking at me. When I reached the climbing wall, a girl at the desk gave me a pair of shoes and a harness. She had a kind, yet sassy attitude, the kind I imagine one would need to be a wicked-awesome ninja rock climber. She attached me to one of the vertical climbs. I grasped the plastic rocks with my hands, breathed, and started climbing.

A quarter of the way up, this isn’t so bad. Halfway, and the rocks were spreading out, wrestling me from my comfort zone.

“Stand up!” “Use your legs!” The girl kept saying, amidst words of encouragement. Nevertheless, I hung there, my knees bent and my body frozen.

I looked down, took in the sight of the blue mats and the girl belaying me. I slipped a little, but the rope caught me. I was afraid, but then realized that the rope was there, the girl was there, and my courage was just around the corner. Life is full of risks, and if we all are too afraid to take them, we will never accomplish our dreams. With what seemed like every fiber of my body, I heaved myself into a standing position, placed my leg on a rock near my elbow, and continued my climb. It took time and a lot of my energy, but at long last, I made it to the top of a climbing wall. I touched the very top and sighed. My arms ached, but my soul was overjoyed.

Now, I have climbed to the top of most of the vertical climbs at Trees Hall, and I would love to take my rock climbing outdoors. It may seem like a minor success, but with every success we have, our confidence and courage grow. I did not really overcome my fear of heights, I simply showed myself that, with determination, I can reach the next rock. I can make my dreams come true, and that is the lesson I want to share with this story. Overcoming your fear of something is not easy, but every small step is a victory. If just once, you see a small spider and don’t scream and run away (perhaps you just take a hurried shower, after which you curl up in a galaxy far away from here), you’ve made a victory. To paraphrase Neil Armstrong, “one small moment of courage for you; one great leap for your life.”