Our kids are incurable climbers, a tendency which has drawn its share of applause and, well, disapproval through the years. But I love that they are always looking upward, stretching toward, taking risks. While I follow them around with a camera (and a ready hand), I'll admit that it's sometimes hard to let them work themselves in and out of situations, to give them the space to explore their limits.
There are boundaries and rules, of course, but in general those are pretty broad. They have a lot of room to maneuver, and sometimes they get stuck and scraped and nervous. Sometimes they're not sure they can get down. So I stand below and offer some advice -- "left foot now, just a little lower. Hold on tight with your right hand and reach for the branch with your left." I am there, but I'm usually hands off.
There is something to be said for doubting and conquering, for trying and failing and failing again, and trying and maybe not failing. For learning to trust instincts and footing. For reaching the top and stretching one's arms to the horizon and daring it to claim it's unreachable.