Every now and then, my very favorite former boss writes up a clever questionnaire and sends it out to his pals. The original idea was that we would all send our answers back to him, and then forward the questionnaire on to our OWN friends for THEIR answers.
Instead, a tradition evolved wherein everyone just replies all. Which means that I'm reading all of my boss's friends' answers-- some of whom I know and some of whom I don't-- and they're reading mine.
These questionnaires don't come often-- sometimes only once a year-- and I look forward to them. The queries range from practical to deep to hilarious-- and since many of the respondents are writers, some of them of the rah-thuh well-known variety, the answers are always extremely engaging. Reading what are often fairly intimate responses from people I know only by name-- and in some cases, only by email address-- is probably the closest I've ever come to reading someone else's diary. (Turns out, diary reading is pretty fascinating.)
Anyway. This is all to say that one of the questions on the most recent questionnaire was this: "What intimidates you?"
My answer? "Less and less."
To understand the joy this answer brings me, you have to know that I used to to be intimidated by almost everything. Slowly, over the last few years, that's been fading. I'm not sure exactly why, but I think it partly has to do with moving through and learning from professional challenges.
Mostly, though, it's connected to my decision to have a baby by myself. I kinda feel like, if THAT doesn't intimidate me, why would anything else? If I can accept my singlehood and plan a life for myself and a child... everything else is cake.
Really, really, scary cake.
What intimidates you?