On Edge

Early this month, I read several accounts about the new observation balconies opening on the 103rd floor of Chicago's Sears (Willis) Tower. It was almost heart-stopping just to think about walking out over nothingness, 1353 feet above Wacker Drive and the Chicago River. Several summers ago, before construction of "The Ledge" began, I ventured close enough to the Skydeck's windows to take some pictures, but mostly I stayed back a few feet to avoid the queasiness of looking down so far. Visitors who got sneak previews from the glass-enclosed boxes included several young children who lay flat on the floor to look straight down or jumped up and down to see if there was any shaking. (There wasn't, of course. Each box has walls, ceiling, and floor made of three half-inch layers of super-clear glass with plastic layers sandwiched between. They are suspended from inside the building by a steel framework and each is capable of supporting five tons—about three mid-sized cars or an elephant. Cars and elephants are not allowed into the building, so I think we're okay here.)

What was amazing to me, other than the sheer boldness of the whole project, was the fearlessness of these children. Adults confessed their trepidation, but not the kids. They thought it was really cool! They had not yet acquired the caution of their elders. They had not learned this particular fear.

Most of us have some fears—heights, perhaps, or big dogs or doctors' needles or storms. These may be quite understandable. Some experience in our lifetime, even long ago in childhood, taught us to be wary, or we may have "caught" the fear from those around us who were afraid. We continue to carry that sense with us, and unless blown out of proportion—becoming an irrational phobia—it is of relatively small consequence that we do so. It did not matter to anyone, not even to me, that I did not want to stand too near the windows of the Skydeck in Chicago.

There are other fears too that we may have been taught or we "caught": fear of failure or rejection, of change, of authority, of dozens more. I am not the one to recommend how to handle these fears if they become a hindrance to happy living. I want only to remind us how easily we revert to a previously learned fear response. What may seem at first to be indignation might really be fear. What would appear to be a precaution can be fear. Even a show of humility sometimes is a cover for fear!

If it paralyzes, we may need to ask, "Is this actually fear?"

MaryMartha