courage

Courage is not the absence of fear, but the taking of action in spite of it.

Am I courageous or am I stupid? When looking into the face of an impossible enemy, is it a display of valor to hold steady and continue trudging the road to an almost certain death or is it a display of recklessness? In making the decision to return, where did my motivations lie? Were they in the possibility of returning to the past, proving to other people something that was impossible to prove, escaping from a difficult situation? Is that really what I wanted, despite how futile the attempt to return to an intangible moment months past, despite the innate impossibility of proving something to people that they do not want to see, despite the multitude of difficult situations that continue to cross my path? Or do I want something more, do I want an adventure, do I want to feel safe or secure? An adventure I will get regardless of where I am. Safety and security are two states of being that I haven’t experienced since the moment that I stepped onto that airplane.

Courage is something that I lack. I lack the gumption to bring out my six-guns and fight for myself. It is curious, because when it comes down to it, I have always been a fighter. But, instead of fighting for myself, I find myself in the constant, never-ending battle of placating those around me. And within this struggle, I have lost myself.

When I look in the mirror, I see something. I see an outline, a vision, a future, a potential. But I can never see what is really there. It is as if I dig through my closet daily to find the appropriate mask. It is unbearable, those first few hours of the morning or last few hours of the evening, when I catch a glimpse of myself, naked and vulnerable, in front of the mirror. This is my fear. Myself.

Taking action. Action. An act. A moving, breathing, tangible act. For one with so many ideas and desires, this ‘taking of action’ ends up being my ultimate nemesis. For while it is so easy to sit and contemplate life and the things that I will one day accomplish from the safety of my room, taking these ideas and giving life to them is the most difficult challenge that I have faced to date.

Putting it all together, I recognize and gladly admit that I am afraid. I am afraid of the past, of the present, of the future. I am afraid of being unlovable and being incapable of truly loving another human being. I am afraid of death, but even more, I am afraid of life. I am afraid to step outside of my room when it is too cold, afraid of the ghosts in my closet, afraid of failure, afraid of success. I am afraid of spiders. I am afraid of the grocery store. I am afraid to check my voicemail.

Afraid. A, Frayed. How appropriate. A, an article, me in this case, being ripped to shreds, hence ‘frayed’, by invisible and most of the time nonexistent attackers.

To live in the moment is to remove myself from fear. Because at this moment, sitting at my desk and typing on my keyboard, nobody and nothing is attacking me. I have no idea what type of horror or joy awaits outside my door, but I cannot be concerned with what I do not know. And if all I know is now, and if now there is no reason to be afraid, there is nothing to fear.

And so I choose to take action. I choose to be secure and safe in this moment because in this moment, I am secure and safe. And so I choose whether or not to be afraid. What is the worst that could happen anyway?

I have lived so much, experienced so much of the human spectrum of emotions, seen both the beauty and tragedy of humanity. And I am still alive, bent slightly, but never broken. Because, while many have tried, nobody can steal or break my soul. Amongst all of the material and physical possessions that I have, that people have proven time and again to take advantage of or destroy whenever possible, I will always retain that which resides inside of me. And I must nourish it by maintaining my integrity and self-worth. I must guard it carefully and always take care when bearing it to another. I must listen to its intuitions and when I do, will always be carried in the right direction.

In the end, I guess I am courageous. Through the multitude of lives I have lived, for the amount of times that I thought I was destroyed, for the joy and love and laughter, for the tears, for the blood curdling screams and unimaginable pain, here I am. Nearly bludgeoned to death by fear, I still leave the comfort of my bed to face the day. And even though some days are better than others, I somehow find the strength to carry myself through it all and at times, find the even deeper strength to smile through it all.