Basic bravery
Not the epic kind
Somewhere in my social media feeds this week, someone shared a picture of a steep rockface they had just climbed. It gave me complicated feelings. Jealous? Probably, but I couldn’t be bothered to risk a climb like that. In their account of the experience, I could perceive their elation at having done that big brave thing. I recognize that elation, but it only takes a small amount of risk to make me scared.
Sometimes folks tell me they think I’m brave, I think because they see my lifestyle as somewhat adventurous. I agree that I’m brave, but my bravery doesn’t come out in adventurous ways. Mine is a brain jam-packed with fears, so the bravery I have is a the courage of a scaredy-cat. I’m afraid of basic stuff, and the bravery I have is a muscle I’ve built by pushing through basic fears.
I had to summon a whackload of basic bravery this week.
