Out on a Ledge

I was in Chicago this past weekend, for a youth sports tournament. I haven’t been in Chicago since I was an undergraduate, and my daughter has never been, so we wanted to see at least something of the city while we were there.

This is a thing that organizers of professional conferences have long understood, that I wish youth sports organizers – especially of major national tournaments and events like the one we were at – would also recognize: the destination is part of the attraction. When we go to these places, I want to have time built into the schedule to see the St. Louis Arch, or the Willis Tower. Instead, we generally steal this time from other tournament-related activities – in this case, a year-end banquet for the athletes.

Having stolen just a little time to see the city (not enough for any of the wonderful museums, alas!), we went downtown to visit Cloud Gate (“the bean”) and the Willis Tower Skydeck – where, if you’re brave enough, you can walk out onto a glass ledge 103 floors above the city.

My daughter, who signed us up for this, hesitated on the edge of the ledge with a very “nope” expression on her face. She did eventually climb out onto the glass window far above the city, with the encouragement of her much less hesitant teammate – but the picture I found intriguing was this one, of me, snapped by the other mom, standing on the ledge taking a photo of my daughter.

I wasn’t even thinking about where I stood, or what was (or wasn’t!) beneath me. Why? Because I was focused on encouraging my daughter.

Sometimes, I guess, courage is a matter of forgetting to be afraid because you’re focused on something – or someone – else.

I’m going to try to remind myself of this the next time I’m “noping” on the brink.