On Courage

By S.J.



When I came to the Master I found him sitting on the shore. Feet idly kicking about a tidal pool, he was watching a swarm of green turtle hatchlings crawl their way towards the sea. Seagulls and other birds circled about, screeching their frustration as the Master threw shells at them, hitting each bird which attempted to descend upon the hatchlings with unerring accuracy. He did not turn when I prostrated myself beside him. The sun hung low in the sky like an overripe orange, turning the sea to burning copper in its wake

“So you’ve returned,” he said, stunning a seagull with a particularly well-aimed chonch, “I always figured you for a fool. What do you want this time?” 

“Master,” I said, not removing my my forehead from the itching sand, “I have long dwelled on your last lecture, and on the meaning of terror. I now understand that despite my many deeds, I had never been brave. Tell me, what does true courage mean?”

He snorted. “Even an infant knows that to be courageous is to do.” 

I did not understand, and the Master, by his scornful gaze, knew that as well as I did. With a roll of his eyes he continued. “The natural state of all things, living and dead and that never lived, is stillness. Entropy ever gnaws at all that moves, and only by staying still do we delay the inevitable. Therefore, any action at all is an act of supreme courage, for it is defiance against the greatest of enemies.” 

“So,” I ventured, daring to remove my face from the sand, “Am I courageous for coming here, despite my foolishness?” 

“All things are equally brave. The hatchlings are brave, despite having only been born. The seagulls are brave, despite acting only upon their nature.” 

“And yet you aid the one and hinder the other by your actions, Master.” 

As was during our encounter on the mountain, the Master nodded with faint appreciation to the statement, though I knew not why. “If courage is universal, then it is no virtue. The hatchling and the gull are equally brave, yet I desire to help only one. I do not aid the hatchling because I believe that it is more courageous, I do so because I desire it.” 

I considered the Master’s words. “If courage is no virtue, does this mean cowardice is not a sin?”

The Master nodded, absentmindedly reaching with his hand towards the setting sun. “Having the courage to do, does not mean it is always the right action to take. For example,” he said, and with his thumb and forefinger circled the sun. To my utter horror, it seemed to warp and bend and weep as if being crushed by some terrible titan, which I suppose it was. Darkness descended upon creation.  

“I could end everything right now.”   

He released his fingers, and the sun returned to its usual shape as if nothing had happened. “Be glad that I am a coward.” 

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