Daring Do

 People imagine rescue as a heroic leap into danger. Flames. Sirens. Triumph. In my life it has looked smaller. Stranger. Less cinematic. And far more true.

Let me start with the chameleon.

Cameroon is a land where the rain forest does not apologize for existing. I was a boy who did not yet understand how quickly wonders can turn into fear. There was a day when I found myself alone, lost enough that the air tasted wrong. Panic grows loud when you have no one to hear it. In that frantic rush of steps in the wrong direction, something made me stop.

A chameleon. Perched on a branch like a tiny prophet in scales. It turned its eyes toward me, both at once and sideways too, as if to say pay attention. The absurdity of that creature, calm while my heart raced, brought me back into myself. And in that stillness I finally noticed the path I had missed.

If rescue is the return of clarity, that lizard saved my life.

Years later the dangers changed shape. Dubai highways. Hospital rooms. Immigration offices. The kinds of places where threats wear suits and paperwork. I have been the one to shield my family more times than I can count. I have stepped into the hard conversations. I have handled the crash reports. I have kept calm when fear wanted to take the wheel. That is a different kind of rescue. Slower. Quieter. No applause.

But do not mistake capability for invincibility.

Every time I guided my wife through another uncertainty, she steadied me too. Every time I protected my sons from mistakes with sharp edges, they reminded me to hope. Survival is not a solo act. It is a relay where the baton keeps changing hands.

I once thought daring do meant being the one who saves the day. Now I understand the real courage is admitting that sometimes you are the one who needs saving. Even if the rescuer arrives on four tiny feet, wearing the colors of fear and courage at the same time.

I have rescued my family. They have rescued me. And a chameleon once reminded me that wisdom appears exactly when we stop pretending we know the way.

If that is not daring, I do not know what is.

Now let me turn the question back toward you, because growth hides in these reversals.
Which rescue taught you more: the one where you protected someone else, or the one where you finally let something else protect you?

I write

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