Carol: “Is that really you?”
Friend: “Carol, that’s me!”
Carol: “I just can’t imagine. You are one brave lady”
Friend: “Carol, that’s just one kind of brave!”
Carol: “I love that. We each have our own kind of brave, don’t we?”
Scrolling through Facebook, I spotted the picture of a friend, standing on a jagged precipice of the Dolomites.
Dolomites? Where are those? No matter. OMG! She’s standing on a ledge.
First of all, how did she ever climb up there? Secondly, how does one balance like that?
Both, totally beyond my comprehension, let alone skill set.
OMG. . .In So Many Ways.
In my book, that is brave. No other way to describe it.
Ahhhh. Just because I can’t climb a mountain or balance on the ledge of that mountain, am I not brave? Is brave a word used for The big happenings? The spectacular experiences? The marker events of life?
“Carol, just one kind of brave!”
Let’s see.
I was brave when we put a for sale sign in front of our home of almost 40 years.
And when we packed up two cars and drove to Santa Fe to start a new life at 68 years old. Or when I managed four joint replacements. And their recovery. I can’t forget walking Molly. Then there were the times I spoke up in a group and voiced a different opinion. That one was a particular kind of brave!
And many days it’s just putting my toe into unfamiliar water. Moving forward. Rising above.
There’s more than one kind of brave! Lots more. What are yours?
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