On being courageous

Summertime is the quintessence of ease - the days are longer, the fruit sweeter, and there's just something that soothes the soul about catching fireflies on nights where the warmth lingers.

But sometimes the heat gets to you. There can be too much sweat, too many expectations, and not enough spare time. And it's in the middle of those sweltering dog-days that it can feel like we're losing some sort of battle with what aspires to be the easiest time of the year, like our words aren't good enough or strong enough or frequent enough.

This summer, I'm neither working nor on vacation. I'm in the dreaded in-between of this and that, here and there. I'm neither home nor away from, and I find myself wondering, in quiet moments, if I'm wasting this time.

But.

Courage doesn't strike when things are easy. It sneaks up on us when, even if the little things are going as planned, the big things seem all too out of reach. Courage whispers to us as the sun rises, in the few, first, cool moments of the day not held by humidity. Courage isn't the necessity of success but rather, the attitude following failure that says boldly, I will find the favor set aside for me. It is tasting peaches and coffee, when all the world sees is unplanted pits and unroasted beans.

And damn, if those peaches aren't the best you've ever had.