Recently, I revisited my favorite Korean variety show — Running Man. If you haven’t watched it, it’s a program that blends games, challenges, and travel. The cast members not only have to complete extreme missions but also show humor and sincerity while competing with each other.
For me, it’s more than just a variety show — it’s like a mirror, reflecting the courage I long for and reminding me to confront my own fears.
In the Dubai episode, there was a moment that left me utterly still — the moment Kookjong jumped from 13,000 feet, with an endless, bright ocean beneath him.
The camera slowly swept from his perspective; the sea and sunlight intertwined into a breathtaking blue, the wind whistling as if it could pass through the screen and brush against my chest. My heart raced, my palms slightly sweaty, and I even felt a sudden urge to cry.
RM is always like this — every choice he makes, every adventure he takes, confronts us with the essence of courage:
it is not recklessness, but the decision to move forward despite trembling, despite fear, to do what one must do.
I often wonder, where does courage come from? It doesn’t appear out of nowhere, nor is it a momentary impulse.
Courage is like a plant; it requires time to be nurtured, and it grows through the trials and experiences of life.
Just like a river carving its riverbed, the passage of time shapes resilience and smooths sharp edges.
In the past, I always wished time would go faster, as if I could fast-forward to the moment of success. I was anxious about the unknown future, eager to see the outcome in advance, neglecting every present moment.
But with the passage of years, my perception has quietly changed.
I’ve learned to settle my mind, to face the issues before me, to notice the small details of life: the morning sunlight filtering through the curtains and spilling patterned light onto the desk; the aroma of baked goods drifting from the corner café; the rhythm of raindrops tapping against the window; the soft rustling of leaves in the cool night breeze…
Each moment is unrepeatable, each one a unique mark of life.
A human life lasts but a few decades. So I choose to befriend time, to move with her rhythm, letting her be a companion in my growth, courage, and self-discovery.
As Borges said:
“Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which carries me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger that devours me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire.”
Every time I read this, I feel my heart gently stirred.
In life, we are all like rivers — pushed forward by time, yet shaping our own path. Anxiety, passion, regret, joy — all these threads intertwine, allowing courage to quietly take root.
Courage is no longer an instantaneous impulse; it is the steady resolve to take a step forward, even knowing the path is unpredictable.
I often reflect on my past self, stumbling along the path of growth.
Back then, I wanted life to look efficient and polished, rushing to complete every task. Yet every moment of panic, every burst of anxiety, was a betrayal of the present.
Now, I’ve learned to slow down, to feel the twists and turns of a journey, to savor the small and authentic moments. Walking along a familiar path, seeing a leaf gently fall, I stop, bend down, pick it up, and feel its warmth in my hand — in that instant, it feels as if I’m shaking hands with time, holding my courage in my palm.
Watching RM, I see the steadfastness I long for, and I remember my own small acts of courage in daily life — facing an unfamiliar journey, trying an unknown project, quietly writing down my thoughts in the stillness of the night.
Courage has never been about grand gestures; it often hides in these subtle, real moments.
I think of those early mornings spent writing alone, with only the dim streetlights and a gentle breeze as companions. Each sentence I type feels like a conversation with time.
Every keystroke is a declaration of courage — to continue pursuing what I want to do, even if unseen.
Life is short, and it is precisely this brevity that makes every act of courage so precious. Time teaches me that courage is not the impulse to cross mountains and seas, but the steadfast willingness to step forward, even in the face of uncertainty. It resides in everyday life, accumulating through small choices, sprouting in perseverance, and settling through reflection.
Perhaps today you are sitting by a window, watching sunlight dapple the desk; perhaps you stand at a crossroads in life, feeling hesitant. May you also feel the tenderness of time, and may you slowly cultivate your courage through each tremor, hesitation, and act of perseverance.
Just like RM leaping from the sky, we too spread our arms in the air, welcoming the rush of wind, the flutter of our hearts, and all the unknowns that time bestows. Under this endless sky, courage and time grow together, quietly entwined.
Even the tiniest step is a dance with time, an affirmation of your growth.
May we all, in the flow of time, gradually become our bravest selves.
Hi, I’m Lynn~
I’m creating Kita-Sora: a soft, slow-growing world for grown-ups who still remember how to wonder.
If this resonates, you can support me with a coffee☕, or a few claps👏.
You’re always welcome here. 💓
💌Join me on Substack: bblhuyuni