Fear can make the simplest action seem impossible.
Years ago my family and I spent a summer afternoon at the river. On the far bank there was a huge, tall rock. We saw people leap off into the water but had never done that ourselves. I fear heights and frankly never considered it although the distance to the water was only six to eight feet. One of our sons, well in his teens, persuaded my husband and I to do it with him.
Our boy leapt, no hesitation. I wavered for a good moment but followed. It was fun and I've an amazing picture of my hubby after he jumped next, his feet inches above the water.
I intended to do it again. I climbed back up then froze. I knew it was safe. I'd literally just done it but after several minutes I walked away. I couldn't jump.
It's happened before, snagged me, unexpected, without cause. Fear. Sometimes a person needs to find its root or merely needs support.
Sometimes though the only way forward is to accept that you're afraid and jump.
I'm entering a writing contest today, offering my work for the world to read.
Today, I'm jumping off the rock.