where does courage come from? the deep breaths taken when your voice starts to quiver? the tight grip with both hands when they start to tremble? the smile someone blesses upon you that whispers don’t worry, you’ll be fine?
where does courage come from when fear is logical and natural, warning signs blaring to persuade of self-preservation? where is the source of determination from which you take the plunge, figuratively or literally?
i remember the long seconds i took to steel myself when i cliff dove the last time, 15 meters of free fall. the way i focused on the horizon and not the seawater beneath, clenching my fists, muttering to myself that it’s okay. the punishment of pain that came afterwards still kinda jars me, and sets back my courage to do something similar by quite a lot. i don’t imagine i’d ever attempt it again.
similarly, i’m taking a plunge this time, and maybe i’m worried that if it doesn’t turn out well, i’m gonna clam up for a long period after. yet at the same time, i’m sick of self-preservation, and i know i’ll regret it less if i tried and failed and hurt, than if i never tried at all.
i still know i don’t regret doing that cliff dive, not at all. i’d have hated myself if i didn’t try.
