Learning About Courage

Stood at the bottom of the wall, feet comfortably on solid ground, I watched her climb. The progress was slow, it was only her second time, but she was doing better than the first. Hand reaching out following her line of sight, grasping for a secure hold. Toes inching away from safety only to find it once more.

I smiled and chatted to the other parents, asking the usual polite questions but my attention was solely on her. Halfway up, she paused as she had done many times already but now a minute extended, and I wondered if she was okay.

Calling her name, she didn’t look down to meet my questioning gaze. Her body was still but not motionless. Her hands were gripping on as hard as they could, and there was a tremble in her trouser legs, exposing the truth of the nerves beneath the surface.

‘You’ve got this.’

I called out. Trying to imbue my tone with the strength I knew she had within her. Trying to communicate my faith in her and her ability to do the hard thing in front of her. Face centimeters from a wall, attached only with ropes that she probably wouldn’t completely trust. Full well knowing that it was easy to say with my feet firmly safe on the floor, muscles not being challenged to pull me up the sheer face of an indoor climbing wall with other people on each side happily moving up and down.

‘You’ve done great, just let go and come down for a break.’

I offered.

‘I can’t.’

Whether she meant she couldn’t because she didn’t want to stop before she’d achieved her goal, or she couldn’t just let go and lean into the pully that was designed to safely and slowly lower her to the ground, I didn’t know. I was aware though, that at that moment she was facing a challenge greater than simply climbing a wall. She was making the decision to continue the struggle against a challenge that felt too much, or to face a different but some would say the harder challenge for most adults… to surrender and trust that you won’t fall.

Children do amazing things every day. They go into situations that would cripple adults with anxiety, they wake up knowing that there is so much they don’t know, don’t have any control over, and that they’ll have to spend a large amount of time doing things they just don’t want to do. That is the society that the mainstream world has created for them. If courage is to feel fear and keep trying, they are the bravest of us all.

That day watching her, I allowed myself to let go of the need to rescue her, to tell her what to do or to worry about what anyone else thought. I had no comparisons to the other children, nothing in my head other than holding space for the amazing moment that my child was experiencing.

I watched her debate with herself. I watched her pull reserves of strength (both physical and mental) from who knows where and I watched her continue her journey slowly up the wall.

She was quietly determined, and I waited.

I waited while she clung, suspended at the top, and enjoyed the view, of herself.

I waited while she descended equally as slowly because she had to climb down, in her own way, on her own terms rather than let go. It was two more visits before she did that. The part that made me speechless though, was when at the bottom, after a hug, when I asked her how she felt, she said,

‘I’m terrified of heights, I always have been and I still am.’

You see, I had had no idea she was scared of heights, I would never have encouraged her if I had known that. She had kept it to herself as something that was a problem she would one day fix, a temporary situation that she, by herself, would deal with.

That to me is true courage. Seeing our challenges as temporary and no allowing them to define or label us. Making the decision to try and do something, and doing it in your own way, in your own time, with no one influencing or controlling you but you. She did something hard and in doing with such fierce determination and grace, it gave me a life lesson that has shaped me ever since.