I feel like many adults are more scared of living than I am. They hesitate at taking chances, cringe at risks, deny any thoughts of rebellion or betrayal or, most simply, change. Are they so content in their little boxy cages that the tiny iron bars have melded and forged together to fuse into solid, opaque walls that reject light and keep everything in the dark? This level of comfort has created pseudo-security. They are safe within their own dull confines merely because no one prods at them any longer. There are no threats. Danger has tip-toed onward, irritated with the amount of time it has expended and the meager results that follow in its wake. Haggard in its appearance, it stumbles around, scavenging for scraps of courage. It does not devour out of pleasure; it consumes to heighten. When Risk and Courage meet and combine, beautiful, beautiful things happen. When Risk and Courage combine, Growth bursts everywhere.
I hope we don't all lose our sense of adventure as we age.
Risk and Courage, on their own, reap nothing more than stale footprints.