We want strength, so we seek security. Stumbling around in the shadows, hands grasping at anything we can touch, we think we find it, forgetting that if we can touch it, it is not strength, for strength comes from within. It is a crutch. It delays the search, it doesn’t end it. We know this, because our anxieties are veiled, not abated: external sources of ‘security’ do not destroy the insecurities that summon them, they only shroud them. We are the ‘cowards’, who ‘die many times before their deaths’, while longing instead to be ‘the valiant’ who ‘never taste of death but once.’[i] A fear once faced and taken into ourselves soon fizzles out, but anxiety is fertilised by ignorance.