Sometimes You Just Need to Stand Up

Sometimes when I feel the heaviness of work and life I think about my grandmother and this little story. It always makes me smile and brings a little perspective. I hope you enjoy it.

Sometimes You Just Need to Stand Up

When I was a boy, my family went on vacations that were only a few miles from home because we didn’t have any money to go farther away. Today, they’d probably be considered “staycations.”

Often, my dad would rent a friend’s cottage on a lake near Fremont, less than thirty miles from our home in Muskegon. My dad and my older brother were more into fishing than I was, but I always wanted to go out on the water with them.

They thought I was too much of a pain in the butt because I couldn’t swim and had a serious fear of falling into the lake and drowning.

“You talk too much, and it scares the fish,” my father often said. “You can fish off the dock while we go out. It’s safer there, anyway.”

So, one morning when I was seven years old, I went out to the dock by myself after my dad and brother had rowed out on the lake. I had a junior-size rod and reel, a tiny tackle box, and a Styrofoam cup full of slimy, smelly worms.

I wore a bucket hat and, because I was Mr. Safety First, an orange life vest. I pretended to be a serious fisherman, casting and reeling like I was using a lure instead of letting my poor worm just sink to the bottom.

I liked casting. It made me feel like a pro. I thought my dad and brother might be impressed enough to one day let me in the boat with them.

After a few warmups, I decided to see how far I could cast. I raised the pole over my head and kept pushing it back until the rod was parallel to the ground, and then I whipped that worm way out into the lake.

To my shock, I hooked something. At first, it felt like a major lunker, a mighty whopper that would feed my family for a week or take up a huge space over the fireplace, if we had a fireplace.

But then, as I yanked the line and found myself going headfirst off the dock, I realized I had taken my pole so far back that I’d hooked the back of my own life preserver and had whipped myself into the lake.

My dad and my brother heard the splash and began rowing, but they were a long way out.

“Hang on, Kevin, we’re coming!” Dad yelled.

I was flailing and screaming, terrified of drowning.

My grandma and grandpa were with us that year, and grandma came a-running out of the cabin as fast as her ol’ legs could go.

Once she reached the dock, she sprawled on her belly trying to grab me, but I was just out of her reach.

Then, suddenly, she sprang to her feet, cupped her hands around her mouth, and said, “Kevin, listen to me. Just stand up. It’s not that deep, honey. Get your feet under you and just stand up.”

Turns out, she was right.

I squirmed in the water, got my legs down, and my feet hit the bottom. I stood up and the water was barely above my waist.

If my grandma hadn’t come running, I might still be out there, terrified and treading water, totally unaware that my fear was far greater than the depth of my problem.

This story serves as a reminder that there are times when we just need to take a stand and rise above our fears and our past. You and I have the power to overcome our challenges, whether in work or in life.

As my grandma taught me, when we dare to stand tall, we often discover our challenges are not as great as the fear surrounding them.

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Kevin D. Brown is a branding and culture expert. He’s an award-winning motivational speaker, bestselling author, and the creator of The Hero Effect®. Follow him on LinkedIn, Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.