Surrender to the withering

I always try to benchmark scary situations against even scarier things I have done earlier in my life. As if I have an imaginary scary-scale. I won't tell you the details of it, since I am not sure it works very well. It might give me some perspective, but at the end of the day it only tells me that I most probably will survive, which is good, but maybe not encouraging enough. Failing usually feels so ugly.

Tulips, on the other hand, are beautiful from the beginning to the end. They wither with dignity. Maybe that is what to believe in; the ability to wither with dignity and therefore surrender to the possibility that the scariest thing on the scale will be a great emotional risk, however still worth trying. Winning and losing are so close. And the realisation that it is possible to deal with whatever happens.

Or maybe dignity is overrated. I might just stick to the imaginary scary-scale.