Surely, a “fearless heart” is a truism.
How can anyone falling in love be fearless? Do they pause, confound the heart, and question? Is this love true? Will it endure? Outlive boredom and tedium? Survive deception and indiscretion?
How can the pregnant mother not be filled with womb-like worry? On an irreversible trajectory, does she not seek a rest stop for heart-breaking, soul-bending reflection? Will this fetus arrive healthy? Will this child’s body be sturdy in growth? Will this being’s character be steady?
Only the naive, the innocent, the very young dare unknowingly to be fearless. Only the toddler without estimation of heights and secure grasp of strongholds, reaches further and far above without fear. While the rock climber trains and traces his perilous route up Yosemite’s El Capitan with trepidation.
Only the teenager, not yet chastened, chases and clings to unrequited love without shields for protection. Risking the loss of self to the selfishness of others. While the commitment phobic adults, at marriageable age, dodge the messy paint balls of love, avoiding attachment and entrapment.
With or without feeling fear, we feel our hearts pounding. If we could bubblewrap and shrink wrap them, cushion them in downy feathers and handle them with care, would we choose to live less fearlessly or risk living more? My heart, after all of these years of pain and joy, is still too bruised to yet know.