Courage -The story of my painting
Courage
Tara crouched on tippytoes, right at the edge.
She shouldn’t have looked down.
She knew that. Everyone knew that.
So naturally, she looked down.
“Shiiiiit.”
Just breathe. You can do this.
Her stomach was alive with butterflies.
“I feel sick.”
You’ve rehearsed this a million times. You’re as ready as you’ll ever be.
She ran through her mental checklist.
Cap, check.
Goggles, check.
Proper swimmers, check.
Phew.
She’d practised on the lower platforms. She knew exactly what she was supposed to do.
So why did the water look so bloody dark and cold today?
Someone behind her coughed.
Seriously?
She glanced back. There were more people waiting now.
Great.
Last Tuesday she’d made it this far too. There’d been no one around, which was exactly why she’d chosen that day to try it.
She’d crouched, counted to three, taken a deep breath...
Then slowly stood back up and climbed all the way down the ladder, pretending she’d forgotten something.
Just in case someone was watching.
But today was different.
She couldn’t go back.
Not this time.
***
Last weekend, Em had dropped in with a bottle of red.
“You still fussing over that plant? What is it anyway?”
“Bird of Paradise.”
“Doesn’t look very paradise-y.”
Tara gave her a look. “It’s supposed to have these huge leaves and beautiful orange and blue flowers.”
“How long have you had it?”
“Years. I’ve tried everything. Morning sun, no sun, more water, less water...”
“Why don’t you get rid of it?”
Tara looked horrified. “I can’t do that. I love it.”
“But it’s miserable.”
“I’ll get a different fertiliser. That might work.”
Em took a sip of wine and studied the plant.
“Tara, there’s nothing wrong with it.”
“Clearly there is.”
“No.” Em looked at her. “It just can’t thrive here.”
Tara stared at the miserable leaf in her hand.
“Well,” she said eventually, “I’ve got to keep trying.”
Em topped up her glass.
***
Someone behind her shifted impatiently.
Tara looked down again.
She shivered.
Stop looking down.
She could still stand up and walk away.
Technically.
Except she was in position now. Heels raised, toes gripping the edge, fingertips pressed against the board for balance.
Her body was ready.
Her brain, apparently, was not.
She’d frozen.
Just move. Just spring off.
She’d thought about this over and over again. She’d made the decision. She’d prepared. She’d practised it a hundred times in her head.
All that was left was one tiny movement forward.
So why did it feel impossible?
The man behind her coughed again.
“Oh, shuuut uuup,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
***
Ben walked in carrying an armful of logs and dropped them beside the fire with a loud crash.
Tara jumped.
He stopped.
“Why did you change everything?”
“So the plant can get full sun.”
He frowned towards his chair.
“I can’t see the TV from there now.”
“You could sit on the lounge.”
“Nope.”
He put his hands on the table and started moving it back, the legs scraping loudly across the floor.
Tara watched him, her heart sinking.
Had the light just faded, or was it the vibe?
Then she looked at the Bird of Paradise.
Sorry, mate.
One sad leaf drooped towards the floor.
There’s nothing wrong with it. It just can’t thrive here.
***
Tara was beginning to sway.
Her legs were shaking now.
“TARA!”
She froze.
What the...?
She squinted through her goggles at the tiny figure below.
“Em?”
“Tara! Holy shit! What are you doing?”
Tara could barely hear her.
“Don’t do it! I’m coming up!”
“NO!”
***
“Why does everything always have to be your way?”
Ben stared at her.
“For fuck’s sake, Tara. It’s just a table.”
“It’s not about the table.”
“Then what is it about?”
She opened her mouth.
Where the hell was she supposed to start?
Twenty-eight years? A thousand tiny things?
“Forget it.”
“There you go again.”
“What?”
“Making everything into something.”
“Because everything is something to me.”
He shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“You’re too sensitive. You take everything so seriously.”
Tara turned, walked to her bedroom and slammed the door.
BANG.
She stood with her back against the door, breathing hard.
On the other side, silence.
The usual silence.
Only this time, something felt different.
***
Em appeared at the top of the stairs, breathless.
She stepped onto the diving board and held out her hand.
“I’m here, Tara. Just take a step back and take my hand.”
Tara looked back at her.
Then forward.
“I can do this”
This time, she didn’t look down.
She took one deep breath.
And sprang off.
For one impossible moment, she seemed to hang there.
Then she fell.
And fell.
SPLASH.
The cold hit her like a slap.
Tara burst through the surface.
“SHIT, THAT’S COLD!”
She swam to the edge, hauled herself out and grabbed her towel.
There was a racket coming from somewhere above her.
What was all that noise?
She looked up.
Everyone waiting on the platform was clapping and cheering.
Even the coughing guy was whistling.
Tara grinned.
Then she saw Em pushing past people, hurrying back down the stairs.
Tara grabbed her bag.
And ran.
I can’t stop now. Ill call her later.
Barefoot and dripping wet, towel wrapped around her, she raced across the car park.
She yanked open the driver’s door and threw herself inside.
The car was loaded to the brim.
Bags. Boxes. Clothes.
And one very large Bird of Paradise.
Tara started the engine.
She glanced in the rear-view mirror.
Nothing.
Just enormous green leaves.
“Shit, that plant is big.”
She pushed one leaf aside.
Another took its place.
Tara stared at it for half a second.
Then laughed.
“Fine.”
She put the car into gear and drove away
About the painting
Courage is about those moments when we know something has to change, even when taking the next step scares the hell out of us.
It’s about trusting yourself, letting go of what no longer allows you to grow, and finding the courage to leap into the unknown.
Because sometimes, love isn’t enough.
A little more behind the story…
There are a few hidden meanings woven through Courage.
The Bird of Paradise represents Tara herself. She’s loved and cared for, but she can’t thrive where she’s planted. Taking the plant with her is Tara finally choosing to give herself the chance to grow and thrive somewhere else.
The diving platform is the decision she knows she needs to make. She can stand at the edge for as long as she likes, but eventually she has to choose: climb back down = go back to Ben, or leap…
The dark water below is the unknown. She can’t see exactly what’s waiting for her, and there are no guarantees. She just knows she doesn’t want stay where she is.
The jump is courage. Not the absence of fear, but doing it while absolutely bloody terrified.
The plant blocking the rear-view mirror is one of my favourites. Tara is driving towards her new life with the part of herself that needs to grow beside her, while her view of what’s behind is disappearing.
And perhaps that’s really what Courage is about.
Sometimes love isn’t enough. Sometimes courage is choosing yourself, taking the leap, and trusting that everything will work out.