I’ve read that post-menopausal women are braver, bolder, gutsier. Oh please, please, pick me!
The book is still out for this menopausal woman. What about you?
I was hoping this newly delivered bravery would just wash over me. Not so.
I did make steps up in bravery with my cancer and the death of my mom. In serious times, when you have little choice as to what will happen, bravery not only gets you through, but it enables you to appreciate the power in the pain, the miracles in the horror, the grace in the gravity. Whence the bravery? My inner soul? God? My dear family and friends? My ability to sometimes see the whimsy amidst the woe? Not sure.
But whatever bravery I’ve garnered in recent years, I’ve only taken baby steps with snakes.
Cliff loves snakes! He has a deep appreciation for these creatures. And so, I am working on snake courage.
On our lovely Hillsborough Riverwalk in April, the black snakes come out, especially in one section that is darker and more wooded than the rest. I can handle a snake yards ahead of me. I like warning. But I don’t want to chance upon a snake, and I am creeped out that they crawl up tree trunks and dangle from branches.
But this year, I forced myself, a few times, with eyes wide open, to go down that snakey path. Didn’t see any, but wasn’t I at least a little bit brave? Progress!
Cliff says the black snakes aren’t on the path or in the trees anymore. They’re off in the woods after mating, doing other important snake things.
It’s amazing how brave I have now become.
Photo courtesy Clifford Younger.