how to seem brave

Last week, I received a card: "Family isn't about where we are. It's about who we are, And how much we mean to each other. You're always in my heart. Happy Easter." My mom and dad both signed it, adding, "We are so proud of your bravery and strength." I smiled while reading. How sweet and silly. If anyone is familiar with the frequency with which I'm frightened by real life, it's them.

Then again, they're right in that my best experiences have been driven by such nervous adrenaline. I think it's because my greatest fear of all is being stuck in the midst of what ifs. In other words, it's less "I think I can" (go, confidence, go) and more I insist on "knowing better". If most of our lives are defined and articulated by what we believe should and shouldn't be, I prefer to challenge the mediocracy, ya know? Though I trust everything takes place as it should, I also believe we give it the opportunity to do so. To let our lives happen at all. To play that small yet significant role in who and what comes our way, where, why, when and how...

It means I'm vulnerable, I get my hopes up, and I'm sometimes hurt by disappointing people, places, and things--nouns, basically. But it also means when I'm far away from my family and ma famille on Easter Sunday, I have friends to clink Kir Royales (and more) with on the Seine. And how I adore them. Brave or not, I wouldn't trade our memories together for anything else in the world. Life does work out in our favor every now and again; and when it does, it's so oftentimes better than we'd ever imagined.