I’ve always been leery of walking to the ledge of a deep canyon and peering over the edge. It’s a ridiculous fear, I know, but one I’ve never fully come to terms with until last month when walking the rim of the Yellowstone Canyon.

While approaching one viewing platform that sat 1500 feet above the bottom of the abyss on top of a small piece of rock jutting out from the canyon wall, I stopped to read a plaque that said a previous viewing platform had been 100 feet further out in the canyon. But in 1978 an earthquake crumbled the walk to the bottom of the hole.

“Oh, great,” I thought. “What if an earthquake hit today and the new platform went crumbling to the bottom with me standing on it?”

I looked up, and the destination ahead looked precarious indeed as if dangling out in the middle of space with no source of support.

I took this as a lesson on how mortal mind plants unwarranted fears and doubts into our thinking and holds us hostage to them if we don’t kick them out with spiritual truth.

For me, hovering over an incredibly deep hole in the ground may create some antsy feelings. For others, speaking in front of a thousand people may produce a few jitters, or getting on an airplane, or asking for a pay raise. But any fears come down to one lie, and that is, that God is not in control.

I was not going to shy away from this opportunity to conquer fear. I was going to look over the steep edge of the railing ahead. I knew.

As I approached the wide open space, I thought about how a few days previous I had absolutely no fear about entering the Lewis and Clark Caverns and walking into the heart of the earth through skinny narrow caves and very confined spaces. Evidently, some people fear the experience for the guide had made a big deal about how there was no turning back at one point. So, I thought, why should I have any less confidence and sense of security now?

There was no sound reason, I concluded.

Then I asked, “Why do I fear walking to the edge of this precipice?” The answer was simple. “What if the ground failed underneath?”

Suddenly the premise of my fear was unveiled, I felt.

I was afraid because I was depending upon rocks and earth, or matter, to hold me up, and of course, I would be nervous, because I had no trust in matter. I was spiritually programmed to not trust matter, and I didn’t.

But I had no fear in the cave, which mortal mind could have gone wild with “What ifs…” So, why should I have any more fear here? I pondered. Wasn’t the cave just as material as this canyon wall? I asked. Maybe not, I reasoned. In the cave, for whatever reason, I was not thinking of it as a material experience. I was so caught up into the beauty, wonder and surprise of it all, that the trip was much more a Mind-experience than a so-called matter experience.

There was no sound reason, for my canyon fear, I concluded. The concern was one of those unwarranted conjectures of mortal mind that seems real when believed, but had no logical basis to back it up.

So I changed the premise of my reasoning. As Christian Science explains so beautifully, we do not live in a universe of matter, but of Mind. It’s not matter that holds us up, but the forces of Spirit.

As I advanced down the path, I decided that I was not walking out onto a material ledge, but exploring in the universe of divine Mind.

Mary Baker Eddy astutely wrote,

“Spirit is the life, substance, and continuity of all things. We tread on forces. Withdraw them, and creation must collapse. Human knowledge calls them forces of matter, but divine Science declares that they belong wholly to divine Mind, are inherent in this Mind, and so restores them to their rightful home and classification.”

I was going to rely upon the forces of Mind to hold me up, keep me safe and protected, not upon what mortal mind called matter. The forces of Love were ever-present, above, below, around and beneath. I could proceed with no fear.

The jitteriness disappeared as I went all the way to the ledge and enjoyed the view. And even more, celebrated a victory over an unwarranted fear!