Clear, golden, good
To Bridget,
I’m realizing that courage changes with you.
When the courage you require is a jump off of a diving board into the deep end, the end is inevitable. You will jump. You will (most likely) enjoy it. And the risk is nonexistent. The courage comes easy because the perceived result is finite and measured. You will emerge from the pool waterlogged and laughing, braver than before. Eager to climb those three rungs and be on your way to the next jump.
A little later, perhaps, courage begins to part its fingers and allows peaks of sunlight to interrupt the dark shadows of our fear. In these moments, the upward motion of reaching toward something brings another question: what will I find on the other side? Our imaginations concoct best and worst case scenarios, which somehow make the shadow land feel unbearable. Will the risk outweigh the reward? With each fear growing dim by the light of every abstract possibility- the darkness can no longer overwhelm it. Let me tell you something about the light. It freckles your face through wiry hands and it calls your name quietly. Suddenly, the beast within begins to pace restlessly in your mind. The reward becomes the closure found on the other side of the sun. Peace, then. Peace from the dull ache of wondering if something out there is better.
Older still, that peace ceases to satisfy. It branches off into a million different directions each claiming to be the key to a happy life. The mad dash for peace shifts from being about hope, instead it makes its bed with fear and lies down for a long winter. Now don’t run off saying that peace itself is the villain of this story. It’s not. Peace remains a noble goal, however the pursuit of peace is where things begin to get murky. Humanity chases fleeting things that make flimsy promises. I could write them out for you, but I think you can figure them out for yourself.
Courage begins to let the sunlight in completely. It paints a glorious picture of possibility- clear, golden, good. You may be wondering why you need courage to climb out of the shadows and into that true peace I’ve been talking about. My reply is this: All that time spent collecting the bits and pieces of a comfortable life has cast a deceiving light across the darkness. The query becomes, is it actually that much better on the other side? Your grip on those comforts tighten, your dependency flowering like spring. Now, the risk doesn’t seem to outweigh the reward.
Our imaginations create possible futures that are full of reality. You know too much, you’ve seen too much. You’ve measured the cost and found it wanting. But, are you weighing the cost against the loss of perceived peace? Is the decision to remain stagnant born from true satisfaction or from a fear of losing the sliver of it you hold so tightly?
Courage could be an invitation to question your motives. When the beast begins to tarry, can you evaluate your own hesitancy? If your reality is only a reflection of what is possible, then you’re only losing what was never fulfilling to begin with.
This doesn’t mean that courage makes it easy. It’s going to measure you in return. Are you wanting? Will you continue to choose courage over fear? Will the risk continue to outweigh the reward? Asking yourself these questions creates the foundation of your peace. You have to learn whether you’re chasing an elusive worldly feeling, or one that satisfies.
So jump off the diving board and get on with it. I’d hate to waste my own time.
From,
Bridget