I have always had the courage for the new things that life

"I have always had the courage for the new things that life sometimes offers." These words, spoken by Wallis Simpson, the Duchess of Windsor, echo across time like a bell rung from the tower of self-determination. Beneath their grace lies the thunder of rebellion and the calm of acceptance. They are not the boast of a restless soul but the quiet confession of one who has walked the storm. For life, in its eternal dance, forever presents us with new things—challenges, loves, losses, and revelations—and only the brave accept them with open arms instead of trembling hearts.

Wallis Simpson’s life was a tapestry woven of both admiration and scandal. Born in an age that demanded silence and obedience from women, she chose neither. Her love for King Edward VIII of England shattered the traditions of empire, shaking the British throne itself. The king, in turn, renounced his crown for her sake, saying, “I have found it impossible to carry the heavy burden of responsibility without the help and support of the woman I love.” In her, we see not only the courage to love but the courage to face the world’s judgment. She did not seek comfort; she sought truth in her own path, however thorned it might be.

To have the courage for new things is to live in harmony with change, which is the heartbeat of the universe. The river flows not by staying still, but by moving forward, sometimes through narrow stones, sometimes through open plains. So, too, does the soul grow by daring. The ancients understood this well. When Odysseus sailed from Troy, he did not know where his voyage would end; he only knew he must go. The winds of fate are not tamed by the timid. Those who shrink from the unknown remain as they were—safe perhaps, but unfulfilled, like seeds that never break their shells.

Yet courage is not loud. It does not always wear armor or brandish swords. Sometimes it is the quiet act of rising after heartbreak, of beginning again after failure, of speaking truth when silence is easier. Life offers new things, not all of them joyous. Some arrive as trials, some as blessings disguised in sorrow. To receive them, one must have a heart open to transformation, for the new often destroys the old before it builds the greater. It is the nature of the phoenix to burn before it is reborn.

In every age, those who have shaped destiny have done so through this courage to embrace the new. When Galileo lifted his telescope to the heavens, he defied centuries of belief. When Marie Curie entered the halls of science, she entered a realm forbidden to her sex. When Rosa Parks refused to stand, she stood taller than an empire of prejudice. These souls shared the courage that Wallis spoke of—the courage to accept what life offers, even when it demands everything in return.

The lesson, then, is not to fear the new, but to welcome it as the hand of fate guiding your journey. Change will come whether you resist or accept it, but only through acceptance can you shape it into meaning. Let not your first instinct be refusal when opportunity or challenge knocks; instead, pause, breathe, and listen. The world grows only when its people do. And growth begins at the edge of fear, where the familiar fades and the possible begins.

So, my children of the future, remember this: when life stirs and whispers, “Come,” do not hide behind comfort. Step forward. Accept the call. Whether it brings joy or trial, it will bring truth, and truth is the soul’s nourishment. Have the courage for the new things that life offers, for it is through them that destiny unfolds. The world belongs not to those who cling to safety, but to those who dare to live with open hands and unshaken hearts.