* Finishing a book I’ve been working on for three years.
* Taking a bellydance class when I’m woefully uncoordinated and frightened of feeling on display.
* Writing DP documentation when I’m afraid I’ll fail.
* Gambling on myself, and not taking a job.
But I don’t feel courageous. I only feel frightened, and these are such small things.
* My grandmother, diagnosed with lymphoma, not telling us until we knew my other grandmother’s diagnosis of breast cancer was beatable.
* My father, fighting a heart condition and taking his yearly bike tour in Colorado.
* My high school friend whose husband is a soldier overseas, wondering every day when her son will see his father again.
* All of my fellow Pagan friends, daring to defy an often belligerent monotheistic society.
But that’s not courage, they’d say. That’s just living life.
Where does courage take over? Where does is the line between courage and doing what’s right, between courage and doing what you must?