On bravery.

BB and I went on a boat trip yesterday with some friends in Sai Kung, and I came back with a not-so-nice tan, a floating feeling which lasted for the rest of the evening and a silly sense of accomplishment.

While lounging on the top deck of the junk, I, who have always been a bit intimidated by the vast and bottomless water and never a good swimmer, was encouraged by my friend A to jump off the top deck into the sea. After hesitating for 5 minutes - mentally calculating the height of the deck and the depth of the sea, wondering how much my butt would hurt if I hit the water the wrong way, and struggling if I should squeeze my nose to prevent water from rushing into the nostrils - I summoned enough courage and just let myself go, and it felt great (and no, it didn't hurt at all; and yes, I squeezed my nose but still water managed to rush into the nostrils).

It's the good 5-minute hesitation that got me thinking.

Since when did we get so scared of everything? I had bungee jumped in my younger years, I was a fan of all kinds of roller coaster rides (my favourite was the free falls), and I used to love those dodgy street foods. But now I cannot walk a block of street without looking up to check if anything is falling from above (like acid bottles, or even worse, air-conditioners) and aiming at my head.

My bravery is diminished by age - and the wisdom and experience that comes with it.

But sometimes, taking the plunge is fun, which is what life should be, most of the time anyway.