This struck me and pushed my button. I have never considered myself brave.
Not when I climbed The Nose on El Capitan or did the first ascent on a wall on Yellowwood. I did not feel brave when I was far above my gear and further from safety. I did not feel brave when I cycled for 6 days from George to Franschoek.
I certainly did not feel brave when deciding I would not rescue a drowning swimmer last year. I called NSRI instead of getting into the water.
So am I still brave?
What I do is look at a huge mountain and work out what the weaknesses are. That is where I start.
Am I brave when I train to get strong for months before hand?
Am I brave when I get the right gear and work out how to use it?
Am I brave when I plot my path step by step?
I don’t think so.
So is a soldier who goes in “against all odds” brave?
Is the hero fire fighter who enters a burning house to save some budgies brave?
Or is bravery not a cloak you put on somebody else. A cloak of impossibility. A hero cloak of sorts.
Maybe I am brave in thinking it is possible in the first place. Of looking fear in the face and saying “Hello, pleasure to meet you”
“Watching without eyes because the beast is just my fear”