Yesterday, I participated in a prompt about all those jobs and situations we tend to avoid.
The more I thought about it, the more I realised that it boils down to just one thing.
Courage.
Courage is a strange word, and not one we tend to use for everyday habits. We just get on with whatever it is and don’t give it a second thought. So, why does it feel as though I have lost my bravery somewhere along the line lately, resulting in a state of apathetic helplessness? When did I start making excuses for not doing something?
Health problems are easy to blame, and my failing eyesight is trying to make me angry, but instead I am worried sick. Everything I love doing hinges on being able to see.
Does having enough courage mean you can carry on when a part of you is hiding behind the door, hoping not to be noticed?
Battling through all those aches and pains, doing what needs to be done, especially when there is no one else?
I think I have been brave enough in my life. Every time fate has thrown rocks at me, I have picked them up and thrown them back, even in the direst of circumstances. So, why has my courage deserted me now, or is this normal at my age?
All of these thoughts were whirling around in my head, and without planning or deciding anything, I found myself lugging the vacuum cleaner upstairs and starting to catch up. I felt a bit like a robot, but the house looked better. Then I came downstairs and repeated the performance.
By this time, my back was screaming, but I was glad to have done it.
Did I feel brave? No, I didn’t. Pushing a hoover around is hardly courageous, so what had pushed me to actually do something?
I decided to try and write something after lunch, more to see if I could and was pleasantly surprised when words appeared on the page. They may be rubbish, but that’s when courage steps in, doesn’t it?
Does your courage falter sometimes… and what do you do about it?
Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes 
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