I stood at the water’s edge
watching as they paddled away –
Two little girls still learning
right to go left, left to go right.
Don’t go past the rock, they were told.
As if a rock could mark
the place where danger begins.
As if adventure
ever listened to boundaries.
They paddle farther.
And I felt that old familiar thing —
the tightening, the voices saying,
‘Hold on. Pull them back.
Keep safe what you love.’
But their mother stood quietly beside me.
‘Let them go.
They’re safe.
They can swim.
They have to learn.’
So I watched.
Watched them wobble,
turn the wrong way,
drift further than they’d been told
and find their way back.
Safe.
Proud.
And a little more certain
of themselves.
Maybe courage
isn’t the absence of fear.
Maybe it’s standing at the water’s edge,
feeling fear rise
all the way to your throat
and loosening the grip anyway.
Sometimes, we are the ones
paddling out.
Sometimes we are the ones
left on shore.
Both require courage.
Both ask us to trust
what we can’t control.
Maybe that’s where adventure begins.
Not when fear disappears
but when we refuse
to let it decide
how far we will go.
Tranquil Resources 