Tag Archives: Bravery

The word bravery conjures up images of capes, tights, and super heroes whose parts—muscles or mammaries—rival overinflated balloons.  It is typically used to describe remarkable acts and heroic feats, particularly those which relate to physical strength or military might.

As a result, bravery seems largely inaccessible—a virtue reserved for the average person presented with unthinkable circumstances, such as hurricane Katrina, or to heroes whose stories—real or fabricated—seem remote or even irrelevant to our daily lives.  Because really, when was the last time you needed to escape from a marauding band of warriors?  Or to settle a dispute with your neighbor while wearing chain mail?

Even though hand-to-hand combat seems more barbaric than laudable in these modern, technologically saturated times, life regularly calls for ordinary bravery—the kind of gritty chutzpah or pluck required to survive the quotidian.

Bravery of this flavor is subtle and understated; it is a deep pulse that carries us onward and steadies us as we face life’s less dramatic waves.  Woven into the concepts of flexibility and perseverance, this small “b” bravery helps us befriend the notion that change comes not through grand gestures or sweeping declarations, but through slow and deliberate practice.

Sometimes we confuse bravery with stoicism; we tell ourselves to buck up or snap out of it because we believe this is the strong thing to do—the thing that will reinstate a sense of control or make us feel powerful.  And yet denying our experience doesn’t take much bravery; it’s actually quite easy to press fast-forward and hide from ourselves or the reality of life.

The more courageous route would be to acknowledge the feelings or thoughts, even those that are unpleasant or so-called negative, and to examine them a bit.  Do they nest in our stomach or our shoulders?  What do they tell us?  And how can we learn from them?

Bravery may be a cake walk when others are watching; we can easily fulfill public promises and do ourselves proud.  But when we are only in the company of ourselves, when we occupy a single bed or a table for one, does our mettle begin to melt?  Do we find it hard to follow through on our intention to take better care of our bodies, or to turn off the ever-buzzing media so that we come to know the landscape of our own vantage point?  Are we able to confront a history that we’d just as soon forget, or to shun a cultural imperative that is clearly detrimental to our lives?

Unlike its swashbuckling, big “B” cousin, psychological bravery can slip by unnoticed and unappreciated; it doesn’t make headlines or win us any awards.  But there’s something precious about this dark horse of a quality, because it tethers us to meaning, purpose and dignity—to the most essential parts of who we are.

And it doesn’t call for chain mail.  Which is a win in my book.

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What does bravery mean to you?  And when have you been most brave?

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This post is part of the Self Discovery, Word by Word series.  Interested in participating?  Click here to find out how.

Photo credits:  1. Rainy Monday; 2.  dank1012, both via Flickr’s Creative Commons License.