When I was about six we went to Disneyworld*.

This was back when the nation was still young, and parents could say things to their six year old children like “Sure, go outside and play, just be back when the streetlights come on”, or “It’s a nice day, you have a bicycle, get out of the house, be back in time for dinner”, or “Welcome to Disneyworld, here’s your ticket. Meet us at the food tent by noon.”

(Imagine that happening today.)

Anyhow. My older sisters couldn’t stop going on about Space Mountain. And of course I wasn’t listening to what they were saying about Space Mountain, only that it was awesome and they couldn’t wait to go. So when we got turned loose, they shot straight for that ride, and with them I went.

That was the day that I discovered I didn’t like roller coasters.

So by the grace of God I get off this thing with clean underwear, and I had one and only one rule for the next ride I took. I walked, wobble-eyed, to the next ride I could find, and asked the ticket taker: “Is this a slow ride?”

I’m sure he looked at me funny, but his answer was, “Yaaassss, it’s a slow ride, all right.” That was all I needed: I didn’t even bother to see what the ride was. I gave up my ticket and got on the ride.

That was also the day that I discovered I didn’t like haunted houses.

Anyway.

Last week I rode my bicycle across the Golden Gate Bridge for the first time. I was fucking terrified.

It was a breathtakingly beautiful mix of those two terrifying memories, and I pretty much spent the entire way across reciting Bene Gesserit litanies**, but I forced myself to do it.+ I’ve spent years trying to explain to the kids that it isn’t about not being afraid, but it’s about how you move through that fear and what you do with it that’s important, and I did it for them as much as for myself.

After all, fear can be a gift. Just don’t let it drive.

* Orlando, of course, not LA. I went there twice, in fact – the second time I was there, it was as a teenager, having freshly lost my wallet. Being broke in a theme park really isn’t awesome, and these two stories probably lean in pretty closely to why I hate going to theme parks in general, but that’s another discussion.

** That litany doesn’t work for shit, by the way.

+ I’ve walked the bridge once or twice. Walking it is no trouble – I can hang on to things, and thereby pretend I’m connected to the ground like Antaeus. Riding a bicycle is a little different; it doesn’t seem like you have as much control over gravity as you do on foot. And, hey, that may not strictly be true, but try explaining that to my lizard brain. It wasn’t having any of it.