Member-only story
The Overwhelming Power of “Can’t”
Buying what your thoughts are selling can create self-fulfilling prophecies
What an impossibly glorious day it was in Pembrokeshire, South Wales. Seagulls called and swooped against the backdrop of blue skies, the green pastures were dotted with dark-grey stones and edged by a ribbon of well-worn coastal path, and the waves broke dramatically at the foot of the sea cliffs.
I didn’t give a toss about any of that.
In fact, I was hurling silent curses at every single element of this stunning scenery.
Why should I admire the seagulls when they were swooping at my head? Should I give a damn about a coastal path I was pretty sure I’d never see again, or thrill to the sound of waves against rock when all this meant was that the freakin’ tide had come in?
I hated the sea cliff the most, because my quivering, sweating body was pressed up against it for dear life. I was wearing a stupid harness, tethered by a stupid rope, having been talked into this stupid endeavour by a stupid man. Only about halfway through the route, unable to go either up or down, I was entirely stuck.
Everything sucked. You are never going to get out of this, hissed my mind. You are going to die. Die, do you hear me?
