Want another one? Amy is a huge fan of camping and canyoneering. We've attempted three other times to do some canyons, and only this past weekend were we able to finally get to it. I'll do another post and talk about the experience once she gets me some of the pictures, but I have to say that it was a really fun experience. In the meantime, let me relate a little side story to the trip.
On the last day, we ended up going to Medieval Chamber in Moab. It has two pretty sweet rappels of about 100 feet and 100+ feet. When we got to the first rappel, two other groups proceeded us, so we had a wait time of over two hours for the first one. By the time we got to the second one, one of the groups went ahead of the other, and we were left watching as the other group was finishing up.
When I got to the scene, one of our canyoneers was helping a little boy of about 12 go down this over 100 foot descent. The kid was paralyzed with fear, only able to take a few steps down before freezing completely as his only movement came from the sobs and whimpers his body convulsed with the prospect of having to climb down the rock face. Amy was so sympathetic to him, but I could only laugh at his plight. With camera in hand, his father looked on while shouting words of encouragement. We all were rooting for him, although I couldn't help but laugh at his terror. As the member of our party coached and comforted him enough to get him down the rappel, the father mentioned to us as he chuckled, "poor kid, I owe him a big ass ice cream cone."
On the right is a bridge, and the left is the rock face that we, and that little boy, all rappelled down. What's really cool is the last part where you're descending about freely only hanging on to your rope for about 30-40 feet.
I laughed even more at that thought. I know that I've been that kid many times growing up. My parents enrolled me in a number of different things to try and get me good experiences and to help my brother and I assimilate into the culture around us. I have cried, whined, and whimpered many times about not wanting to do plenty of things, but I feel like in the end that's what has helped me have enough confidence to try and embrace new experiences. One of my friends expressed about his own kids that he never wants them to be able to say no. I don't really know anything about parenting, but I feel like that's one philosophy that I would also like to have.
When I am growing through my own life's trials, and I'm paralyzed with fear and sobbing to myself, I wonder if Heavenly Father looks down and says to himself, "oh man, I owe that kid a big ass ice cream cone," just like that other father did. I'll bet that he sees our aches and pains, and looks forward to the time when we'll emerge from those troubles and sorrows, ready and eager to give us the prize on the other side.
I suck at golf. I spend as much time enjoying the game as I am frustrated and annoyed with it when I'm out playing, but I still want to figure it out. I've never really been a camper, but I'm acquiring a taste for it and all of the adventure of the outdoors. And I suck at working on my thesis, but I want to blow through this thing.
I feel like there are a lot of things that I'm pretty good at, and then there are a whole lot of other things that I'm not any good at, but I like to think that I have a pretty open mind to at least trying them out. It takes a lot of time and practice of just trying new things, whatever they may be, to get to the point where it becomes comfortable trying something previously unexplored. Pretty rarely, I feel, is it the case where new experiences are not beneficial. I just hope that I can always stay open and eager to try them as they come along.