What my 6 year old said…

We were 3 stories high.

Walking a ropes course.

Secured in a harness.

But as our bodies dangled over the edge, so did our mortality.  At least that’s the way it felt.  Especially if you’re afraid of heights.

My oldest daughter wasn’t happy.   She was afraid.  And the fear had her paralyzed.

My youngest daughter had just turned 6 years old and was having a blast.  After some initial fear, she got the hang of it and wasn’t worried in the least.

We had become separated from the other two girls, so we made our way back to them.  She wanted to offer some encouragement.

My 6 year old looked up at my oldest daughter and said, “Just believe in yourself.  I believe in you.”

She followed it up with this gem: “Have grit or die.”

That may be one of the best lines I’ve ever heard!

Fear is normal.  It’s okay to be afraid.  But you have to face the fear, then you go forward.  You go forward or you die.

It’s just that simple.

Grit=Character

It’s the courage to face the things that hold us down and the resolve to keep going.

Grit is character in the face of overwhelming defeat.  It’s Rocky getting up time and time again after getting knocked down. It’s Red’s sage advice “Get busy livin’ or get busy dying”.  It’s Frodo traveling to Mordor despite his lack of strength and skills, but because it needed to be done.  It’s Harry Potter sacrificing himself to Voldemort’s killing curse so that others might be saved.

To face life is to embrace death.  To accept death is to know life.

Doctors have a morbid sense of humor.

It’s because of our closeness with the inevitable demise and all the pain and suffering life brings.  We have to laugh or else we would go insane.

If my job was to help people survive,  I would always lose.  The house always wins.  Doctors know this going in.  Our patients understand.  They aren’t looking for miracle workers.  They are looking for someone to help them on the path.  Someone to give them their best options.  Someone they can trust that won’t turn their back on them.

I have held the hand of dying patients and comforted the ones staying behind.  I’ve seen confusion, despair, grief, and celebration.  The days go by.  The cycle continues.

Would life be precious if it weren’t so frail?  I’m not sure.

But even with this knowledge, there is still the fight to go on.  We rage against the dying of the light.  We pray our prayers.  Hold hands.  And let go.  Then we keep on going.  GRIT.

Kids with autism.  Parents with cancer.  Neighbors with financial ruin.  Friends and divorce.  Life has it’s way with us.  But we keep pushing back.  GRIT.

We take our best shot.  Get knocked down.  Then get up again.  GRIT.

Maybe facing our fear doesn’t always make us feel better.  But it’s a step we have to take.  Because life is struggle.  And life is growth.  You can’t have one without the other.

Dangling from a rope, with the ground a distant reminder of doom, we tread carefully.  In these moments our pulse races, our chest tightens,  our skin pales.  But we keep going.

To stop is to succumb to defeat.

To stop is to sacrifice happiness for comfort.

To stop is to give in.

To stop is to compromise.

To stop is to die.

My girls and I eventually made it down to the ground.

Safe and sound.

A little braver.

A little wiser.

And more alive than ever.

p.s.