The other week, I decided to enjoy a Thursday evening concert in the square.

In the summer, the Lincoln Square and Ravenswood Chamber of Commerce sponsors these very informal and fun gatherings in the plaza between Café Selmarie and the gourmet sandwich shop.  Each Thursday evening a different band will play until 9:00.  Beer, wine, popcorn and German style brats are available for purchase at very reasonable prices.

It’s strictly a BYOC affair – Bring Your Own Chair.

I set up my canvas folding chair not too far from a little dance stage where young children were tiring themselves out with vigorous freestyle moves while couples of all ages were trying to remember the steps to the Lindy or East Coast Swing they learned at Discovery Center classes.

Ahhhh…. The temperature was pleasant.  The Flat Cats are a great band.  And the people watching….

The crowd didn’t need much encouragement to dance or join in singing the chorus of Mambo Italiano.

I was happily watching the dancing couples move across the little stage, miraculously, without running into each other, when I turned to look at a nearby tree.   It was separated from pedestrian traffic by a short wrought iron fence, hardly a barrier.

It was full of children — from maybe six to thirteen years old.

I stared at this tree for a while.  Where were these kinds’ parents? I thought.  They probably set controls on their Internet accounts and lecture them about online predators, but where are they when their kids are up a tree?

I don’t think I climbed trees when I was young.

Besides amusing myself with make-believe personas and situations,  I did play stick ball and Red Rover and typical outdoors games with other kids on my block.  But I did have a lot of fears.

I hated it when Sherry Baumgartner’s younger brother used to hold out a worm in front of me (pulled from their family collection saved for fishing trips) and chase me down Winston Drive.  I was never crazy about heights.

It was pretty ingrained in me not to take risks.

I chose college courses based on whether I felt confident of getting a good grade.  I don’t drive on the highway more than 10 miles over the speed limit.  When I talk to my portfolio manager, I sign up for conservative investments.

As I already mentioned, I don’t recall facing the same quandary these children faced now, the kids that found their way to the middle branches of this tree during a summer concert.

Climbing is relatively easy. A certain amount of effort and flexibility is required, but JUMPing down – that’s the hard part.

Psychically, it’s hard to make a leap.

Somehow, as a child, I didn’t learn how safe I am in the world.  When analyzing risks vs. rewards, I often under-estimated the rewards.  I often made decisions based on what I thought would be pleasing to others.  (Only to find out too often that this was rarely satisfying for anyone. )

I found it hard to accept the truth of how resilient I am.

I often operated under the misunderstanding that mistakes were fatal.  Now, I know that they’re usually opportunities for do-overs.

With a little coaxing from friends or parents who gathered around the tree with open arms and promised to catch them, all the kids made it down from the tree.

Sometimes, it’s okay to JUMP.

That life provides natural reminders of how to live is no small thing.