Courage at the Falls

One weekend a few years ago, my husband and I visited a nearby waterfall. Though we’ve lived only a ten-minute drive away from it for many years, we had never taken the time to actually stop and take a look.

We parked the car and walked the short hike up to the viewing area below the base of the falls where a rail enclosure had been built to discourage visitors from climbing higher. In spite of the signage, people clambered all over the stones on the slope above.

“Let’s go up,” I said, ducking through the rails of the fence. After a moment’s hesitation, my husband followed. We picked our way over the rocky terrain and mounted the steep slope, being careful of loose stones and wet rocks. In a few minutes we were standing in the refreshing mist of the waterfall.

“I’m going higher,” I told my husband as I searched for firm footing.

“You want to see the pool, don’t you?” he said, squinting up at me. “It’s really not much of a pool, you know.” But by then I was nearly there and didn’t want to stop.

He was right. The pool was tiny but exquisite and the sun sparkled through the trees at the top of the falls lighting a glittering mist that sprinkled my camera lens as I sized up a few picturesque shots. Then I washed my hands in the cool stream and climbed slowly back down the slope.

Near the bottom, a father explained emphatically to his tearful young son that the reason he could not allow the child to climb up higher was because the child could get hurt. Just then, I had to stand aside to allow a tiny girl of about four years old to climb past me. She was aided by her mother, who was also diminutive, and followed by the petite grandmother, carrying a toddler in diapers and a tiny pink jacket. Evidently, they did not share that father’s fear of falling or getting hurt.

Courage and fear, usually learned from others when we are young, can be purposely taught or thoughtlessly communicated. However we absorb these powerful emotions, we need to examine how their presence or absence affects us.

I could not help but wonder if the small boy, whose father was convinced something bad would happen to him, will go through life afraid to try new things for fear of the worst. And will those two tiny girls, whose mother and grandmother helped them climb the challenging slope, be even more brave as they grow older?

When I think about my own life, I know I have courage because I so often say to myself, “Let’s try that and see” or, “I want to go ahead and do that; I’m sure I will be fine.” Then I do and I’m fine. Even when things don’t work out exactly as I plan, I’m still fine.

Do I experience an absence of fear? Yes, very often. But there are also times when I decide to proceed even in the presence of fear. Fear has to move aside when faced with courage. The choice to move it is entirely mine.

I encourage you to pluck up some nerve and fearlessness. If you want to develop more courage, tell yourself more often, “I’m going to try that and see what happens.” Then go ahead; you’ll be fine. When you give yourself permission to go higher, you too will see things like that beautiful pool at the base of the falls.