I like to think of myself as strong, capable, resilient. I like to maintain that I am unaffected by stumbling blocks and setbacks. Surely I stumble, but I will never let them knock me down. I sincerely believe that I can do just about anything, if I were to learn how. I say that I am invincible, or at least nothing's killed me yet.
At times, however, I am reminded of my fragility. I am faced with vulnerabilities and moments of uncertainty and I am not impervious to a racing heart and shaking hands. Autonomic responses over which I have no control and therefore cannot dispel with a clenched jaw and stubborn resolve. Astute observers notice "You just got nervous." "I can feel your heartbeat." "You're shaking." Too transparent to deny.
Still, I trudge onward. Better to hold a torch with a shaking hand than sit in the dark awaiting rescue. Acknowledging shortcomings so that I might bridge the gap in another way. I'm becoming less firm in my stance that fragility is a failure. While I find it a distant notion that it might be a virtue, I can settle for it being a human reality. We have a feeble armor of flesh, not scales, and none of us is without weakness.
Despite our best efforts.