Emergency Exit

He told of a family trip to Disneyland when he was a boy. One of his brothers didn't like scary rides, but got in line with the other siblings for Space Mountain. But he never rode it, because just before it was his turn to get on, he went out the chicken exit. Those of us listening to this tale laughed because we had never heard of the emergency exit being called the chicken exit.

I have found that whenever I am ready to do something scary, there is always a chicken exit. I can dream, hope, work, and along with the opportunity to live my dream comes an opportunity to not take it. A convenient reason or excuse to not get on the ride. To turn away. When I was 24, I decided to leave my hometown and drive across the country to a new life. My penny-pinching boss at the last minute offered me a generous raise to stay. It was my chicken exit. I could have changed my mind. It was a legitimate offer, and it would have been the perfect excuse for me to stay. I was moving to a place I'd never even seen and there was no job waiting for me there. I had saved enough money to last a month once I arrived. I could have chosen the security over the unknown. I told him no thanks. My sister predicted I would be back in six months. That was 28 years ago.

Dreams are personal to the extreme. There is no bigger, stronger person who will force me against my will to get on the ride. I can take the chicken exit if I want. It's right there. Obvious with its large red letters, "EMERGENCY EXIT." It's the easy way out, a last-minute test of the will and a question. Do I really want to live my dream? I think if I don't chicken out at that point, it just may be that I have what it takes to make that dream come true.

Glancing at the exit, stomach queasy and knees weak, I get on the ride.

Susan