By growing up, the courage diminishes. I have become very much aware of this fact. I was a brave once upon a time. And now I am a just a timid man, living uninteresting life and wondering how and why I lost my courage to change things.

In my 20s and 30s I was unstoppable. In less than 2 weeks after graduation of my Mechanical Engineering Studies, with my girlfriend, later my wife, I went to Sweden, looking for better life. In Sweden we got papers for Canada and with 8 months old daughter, we came to Canada. I remember we had 5000$ of borrowed money, not much, but I was brave enough to start something new. I had courage to change things...

Now, I'm a divorced man with a good job and decent salary, I have a girlfriend but I declare myself as a single guy, living in a nice place, practicing yoga and meditation, having bunch of good friends... but I'm far from being satisfied. I'm thinking that I'm not living at all. This is a bullshit life and I want to change things.

In Canada I have a daughter and she visits me once in month. So really, if I see thing realistically, there is nothing to hold me here in Toronto, I am free to go anywhere I want. I can quit my job and sell the condo and I'll have enough money to live couple years until I find something new. I can move to Florida, my old dream, be on the beach and never again have need for heavy winter jacket.

And recently I realized that I have no courage to do the change. I became a coward, I fear of letting go of my job, a fear of selling condo, I fear of being alone...  I realized that I'm already half a dead person.

I noticed that losing of my courage was gradual, not something that I woke up to see it gone. Slowly, year after year, I came to this position where I find it difficult to take bold action in relevance to making my own path. Changing jobs and country of residence has become a nebulous feat.

This realization has propelled me to sit and ponder the reasons why I lost my courage with time. It is the fucking old  age and all these life's experiences that comes with that to make me so fearful of what-ifs. I have built up the boundaries of this daily routines as my current way of life. When I was younger, I had room to make mistakes, and that was gone now.

You see, it is not 56 that makes me an old man, it is this cowardice that makes me old. For some reason through years, I wanted to keep making something for others, mainly for my daughter, be it a scholarship or to leave her my condo or a business. Through years, I lost my identity, I was always living for others.

All I want now is to experience something different than this lame, boring life. What stops me is the courage to make the leap, to defy the norms and venture into the unknown. It is like I'm holding an image of me, of behavior that I should conform to. But that image not real, it is a projection of my pussy-mind.