A spring day in 1984 found myself with a group of fellow college students exploring downtown Toronto. We were thrilling to the experience of having the big city as our playground on that warm, sunny afternoon. The dozen of us all came from a province far away to the east, bordering the cold North Atlantic. Where the tallest building in my hometown had a single elevator that went all the way up to the fourth floor. It was no wonder that the group of us were drawn that day to the CN Tower, the tallest freestanding structure on the entire planet.
We waited at the base, craning our necks upward, watching the elevator descending for us, it took forever. The tower seemed to sway in the breeze. Maybe it was just us feeling giddy, eager to soar into the heavens. Arriving on the Main Observation Deck, we explored every nook and cranny, peeping over every ledge and out every window both fearful and eager. We marveled at how we towered above a city going about it’s normal afternoon routine, totally unaware that it was being watched from on high.
Then we noticed a sign directing us to the Space Deck. An elevator could take us higher still, for a price, if we were willing to pay. The lure of new heights was irresistible. We paid the attendant sitting behind a small counter our fare then walked around the corner into a little hallway to wait in front of the single elevator door. For some reason the elevator was delayed so we busied ourselves with conversations, laughter and smiles, waiting for the elevator to descend. After about ten minutes a small line had formed behind us; other tourist unable to resist the call to rise above our current heights.
We continued to wait patiently, but the line up was starting to grow restless. Then a voice asked from the back end of the hallway, “Is there a problem?” Everyone in the lineup turned their head back towards the voice. It was the tower employee who had taken our money earlier.
“The elevator hasn’t come down yet,” explained my friend standing closest to the elevator doors. Everyone’s head swung back to looked at him.
“Did you try pushing the button,” asked the staff? Everyone’s head swiveled back as he spoke.
Everyone’s head swiveled ahead for the answer. My friend was pointing at the single round button, imprinted with a triangle pointing upward, embedded in a metal plate on the bare wall next to the elevator doors. “This button?” He looked back over his shoulder for confirmation from the attendant. Everyone else looked back too.
“Just push the button!”
As one, every head snapped back to the front of the corridor, every set of eyes focused on my friend’s finger and holding our collective breath we all watch as he leaned ahead in slow motion and pushed the only button in that entire corridor.
The button lit up and with a chiming ding the doors immediately slid open to welcome us within.
With faces of red we ascended into stratosphere.
Today’s task for The Zero to Hero 30 Day Blogging Challenge was to write a post expanding on a comment we made on someone else’s blog the day before.
Yesterday found me reading a post on My Weary Mind: Life—As Seen Through My Eyes.
Deb is a blogger of the brand new sort and in her post she was talking about her fears of pressing publish.
I want a blog that POPS! That makes you WANT to read it, and to come back for more. To have someone out there who is anxiously awaiting the next post…and misses it when there isn’t one. Perhaps that will come one day, after all this blog is still a baby and I still have not gotten over my fear of hitting that danged PUBLISH button. Or the apprehension that nobody will “like”. Silly, right? “
(Read her entire post here: You All Write So Well)
My comment to her went like this:
I used to worry about all that when I first began, what if commenting, following or publishing causes a negative reaction. Now I realize, what’s the worst that could happen? They don’t read my blog? Big Deal, people have been “not” reading my blog ever since I started. So I started poking my nose in, following stuff I liked, commenting here and there, publishing the things I wanted. People started commenting back, following and visiting my page regularly. Eventually I had a group of individuals reading my blog, I don’t consider them followers anymore, I think of them as friends.
Having to expand on that comment for today’s challenge reminded me of the above story. A lot of brand new bloggers, as well as those who have been at it for a while, are sometimes hesitant when it comes to publishing our thoughts.
If you find yourself looking at your Publish button and hesitating… I have a few simple words of advice that I learned from that day in the CN Tower. If you want your blog to rise to new levels, “just push the button!”
Otherwise, you just keep standing were you are.