My father had never paid much attention to me before, so I was surprised when my father woke me early one morning and told me to get dressed and meet him outside. He had piled a couple of bales of hay up with a rather crude target tacked to the front.
He said that my agile hands had to be useful for something more than calligraphy and origami. He handed me a small bow and said I should give it a try. He pulled out a larger version, drew it and shot well within the target.
He walked me through what to do. I drew back the bow as far as I could and the arrow fell to my feet. I tried again and the arrow made it halfway to the target. I kept trying with random results and watched my father grow frustrated. Not sure how the sun had gotten that high, I was determined to get this right. I pulled the bow WAAAAAYY back and launched the arrow clear past the hay bales, much to the surprise of a nearby stable hand who nearly got skewered. I didn’t even have the courage to look up at my father to see his reaction. Before I could think about it too much I shut out the world, grabbed the last arrow in my quiver and shot. It wasn’t quite a bullseye, but my arrow landed closer to it than my father’s had!
He stared in silence for a moment. Was that good? Was he still upset about the stable hand? Oh crap, had I just shown him up with a better shot?
He patted me on the back so hard I pitched forward. “Now that’s more like it. Gather them up and we’ll go again.”
I was so proud. I clearly had to stop thinking so much and just act.