“Be brave.”

My six-year-old daughter loves to jump off things. “Dad! Watch this!” she’ll say as she climbs onto something just so she can leap off it.

But sometimes she gets scared. She wants to jump, but she’s afraid to jump. 
Her conflicting feelings create internal misalignment. Interest but hesitation. Excitement but caution. Ready but unwilling.

She gets stuck, unsure which voice to trust.

Her desire says, “JUMP!” Her fear says, “DON’T JUMP!” Her desire is strong enough that she won’t back down. Her fear is strong enough that she won’t leap forward.

So I gave her a strategy for dealing with fear. And now she uses it every time she feels stuck.

I ask her, “What do we do when we’re afraid?” 

And she answers back, “Be brave.” 

We’ve done it so many times that now she takes the lead. She’ll be doing something, start to get afraid, and lock eyes with me. She’ll ask first, “What do we do when we’re afraid?”

“Be brave,” I’ll say.

“That’s what I’m going to do, Dad.”

That’s usually all she needs. Then she takes her fear and she jumps.

She has permission to take risks and try things she wants to do. And permission to feel afraid while doing it. Because fear will always show up when she tries new things.

Her desires push her into her fears. Her fears stand in the way of her desires. One pushes forward. The other pulls back.

I tell my daughter, “It’s ok to be afraid. You don’t have to hide from it or make it go away. You can be afraid and jump anyway. That’s called being brave.” 

Mom and Dad have to do it all the time, too.

Event + Response = Outcome. Do the work.