Seneca noticed we are frightened more by the walk up than by the thing. The pool from the door is an ocean. The pool from the edge is water.

That is this moment. A new class. A new playground. Your kid says no. The no is large. The thing is still a pool.

He wrote to a friend who was scared of what had not happened yet. We make a picture. The picture is bigger than the room. Then we refuse the picture, and we think we have refused the thing.

Courage here is not a new personality. It is getting close enough to see the real size. One step. Then another. The first step is not a promise that they like swimming.

You do this with a form you have not opened, or a room you have not entered. From the hallway it is huge. From the chair it is a room.

They do not have to like it before they get close. They only have to find out how big it actually is.