Preface (or Finding Oneself up Against a Major Barrier that Prevents Forward Movement)
A few weeks ago, one of my instructors charged me with writing something about courage. You see, the epic struggle between courage and its antithesis, cowardice, has been a running theme in my life (with the latter frequently prevailing). After the interaction with my instructor, I took a few days to think about how I would approach the topic, and I’ve actually sat down to write several times. Writing, abandoning the approach, changing gears, writing again. Really having trouble. Could it be I lack the courage to talk about what courage means to me?
Possibly. In addition, I think, from lack of courage, I continue voluntarily putting myself into Kafkaesque work and living situations where my ability to determine what constitutes a reasonable situation becomes impaired. I’m in one of those situations right now, and on top of it, I’m now unable to leave it as I have a fractured ankle that won’t heal – over three months of being unable to walk. So I feel both mentally and physically paralyzed, imprisoned, dejected in spirit. Not good, so it is especially important that I actually try to write this piece on courage.
The Problem (or What is this Thing Called ‘Courage’, Anyway?)
For a handful of years now, I’ve told myself and others that I’m a coward – i.e., lacking in courage. But what does that mean? I get puzzled reactions from people if I say that, so it is clear that the word ‘courage’ means different things to different people.
Since time began, courage has been defined by men and has usually meant patriotism and picking up weapons to kill people you don’t have the first clue about, but think you do. It is usually cloaked as a defence of that which is important to your group – these days, at least on the Western end of things, it’s ‘freedom’ and ‘democracy’ – and it is seldom the real reason for these displays of supposed courage (it’s usually about ‘getting stuff’ and eradicating religious and ethnic groups). Anyhow, that is not courage. To me.
Courage is also often seen as ‘heading out into the unknown’, and as I typically don’t walk around killing the faceless enemy with a sense of self-righteousness, but I do frequently do the former, people just don’t get my proclamations of cowardice. There is this idea that staying at home and making a life is not brave, while living in places such as China where foreigners are still considered a threat is an act of courage. Courage is more complicated than that, though. I do think that avoiding the unknown (which doesn’t have to be the physical unknown) and thus choosing to remain ignorant is a big part of cowardice. For the Buddhists – and I’ll write about The Three Poisons another time – ignorance is the root of all human suffering. I think it is the root of cowardice as well. But for the sake of the current discussion, let me turn this around. What if continually heading out into the unknown is actually just remaining in a comfort zone of cycling ignorance that prevents one from moving onward and upward? Hmmm.
Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.
- Anaïs Nin
Despite what anyone says, I feel my life is small, so much smaller than it could be. ‘Small’ is a relative term, and I use it to describe the feeling that I’m not where I’m supposed to be, and I’m not doing what I’m supposed to be doing, I’m not being effective like I think I should be. All for lack of courage. Courage to do what? To try, fail, and then try again. To understand one’s needs, and then articulate them and not accept less. To know one’s beliefs, and then not be silent regardless of what others think. I’m really bad at those italics… those italics are courage, to me. The patterns of behaviour that result from not being courageous have become boring and predictable. And, I have a shrunken life as a result.
Framing Courage (or Looking for Heroes)
Before setting out on a courageous path, though, one needs to decide what it means to have this quality and to live a life in accordance with it. Luckily (?), as I am completely laid up – which I normally would have spent writing and being productive, but have not – I’ve been watching a lot of lectures and videos. The critic in my head whispers that I’m just lazy, but I think what I’ve been doing is searching for those who embody courage. Heroes, if you will. I didn’t realize I was doing that, but when I look at what my viewing choices have been, I suppose I could call it ‘research’. At least that sounds a hell of a lot better than wasting time doing nothing.
I’ve had a significant lack of heroes in my life. My parents were bullies and hypocrites, and my teachers were mostly uninspiring and unprovocative in the brains department. Lies and beat downs leading not towards freethinking and outspokenness, but towards inner turmoil, identitylessness, and a feeling of impotence. Even being the product of a cowardly country such as Canada – unable to break free of Britain and constantly sucking up to the US while at the same time staunchly proclaiming “We are not American!” – hasn’t helped in the personal courage development department. Heroes or role models are necessary to identity development, goal setting, and yes, courage.
The people I’m drawn to, I’ve found, have most to all of the following qualities essential to how I see courage:
- a belief in both personal and collective freedom
- a belief in equality and human rights for all (women, gays, races, etc.)
- a respect for facts and evidence, rather than faith or authority, as the building blocks of truth
- a willingness to speak out in defense of their beliefs despite loss of support (at best), ridicule and insult, and even threats of bodily harm or death (at worst)
- a feeling of duty to challenge the sacrosanct, the ‘untouchable’ issues held dear by our societies.
These models of courage, despite whether I agree with everything they think and do, inspire me to aspire to be and do what most people can’t imagine being or doing without being forced . They have existed throughout time. They are the ones who change the world for the better. And many of them have paid dearly in a number of ways only to be supported much later in time.
[As a sidebar, I hadn't originally intended to touch on the topic of heroes or role models, but things evolve as they do. I've also just recalled that I wrote a post over a year ago on Chinese heroines that came out of a class I taught to a bunch of Chinese teens a few summers ago.]
In Closing…
I want to stop here. This essay feels unfinished, but I feel there is a risk of ending on a cheesy, “I can do it! You can do it! We can do it!” inspirational quote/saying note that would take away from what motivated this in the first place. (Congratulate me on not inserting the famous Rosie the Riveter poster here.) I also never meant this to be an advice post. Further, I hate the words ‘musings’, ‘rant’, and ‘ramblings’, so this isn’t any of those either. I think I need to leave this unfinished because I’m not finished – perhaps just starting. I’ve been growing more uncomfortable with the complacency and ‘oh well, not my problem’ attitudes as well as the ‘turn that frown upside down’ Cult of Happiness that are growing in the Western world and I feel I’ve been a part of the non-doing. Grumbling among peers is not action any more than is choosing to remain ignorant.
To be continued…
Courage is hard
Mack, that’s the understatement of the [insert time unit here]
There were so many points while reading this that I wanted to stop and write down. Thank you for working through this topic, and sharing it. You’ve helped me put some things into focus, and I need to examine them myself. I also, apparently, look strong on the outside. But yes, it’s the italics that make the difference.
Thank you so much for your comment. You’ve reminded me of that wonderful, timeless, simple and true Socratic statement: “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Perhaps the examination in and of itself is an act of bravery?
Yes to that. At least it’s a step towards bravery. I hope.
That is a better way of putting it, I think. Yes.
Wow, what a post! I read it last night and have had to think about all that you have in here. You have a lot going on in that head of yours don’t you?!? But see, I think that’s good and that’s where I have been lately too. But right now all that stuff isn’t in any kind of order, like mentally moving, you have just unboxed every single item you have in your head but all that stuff is just sitting in the middle of your mental living room and you have to bump into it, walk around it. It takes up a whole lot of room and it just a huge ole mess. But then, at least I hope, you start seeing an order to it, “oh this goes into the bedroom, this belongs in a the kitchen drawer” and you start to put stuff away and what was this heap of stuff begins to take shape and you see the usefulness of all you have. There is no use for something when it is part of the in-the-way heap, but there is once it takes is rightful place in your mental home, in your life. Did any of that make sense??? I think you might be in the heap phase, you have moved, but you haven’t sorted and put away. I am there too. But I think there is some magic in the heap, at least if we choose to see it as such. I think we should sit in the corner and look upon our heap, look close and think about what we see. Who are we? What do we value? Why do we have what we have in that heap? Then when we have answered the above questions, and many more I didn’t list here we can approach the heap and one by one keep an item and thus put it away in its proper place, give the item to someone who could use it or simply get rid of it. We have to do this over and over, with each individual piece until the heap is no longer a heap. (yes I couldn’t help but use that word after Ted’s Sorites paradox discussion) Then when the heap is gone the idea is to have order, to have direction.
Maybe all this I have just written has nothing to do with courage but in my twisted, never in a straight line way I think it does at least to me. I think courage (or at least one element of) is taking the time to know who you are, what you believe, what matters to YOU, not to those around you, not to those you believe or are told you should believe are like you, not what you have been taught to think you believe but what YOU believe. Then, after taking the time it takes to go through your mental heap, and I think that is a process maybe not many really go through, then you base your actions, your life decisions on the principles you discovered about yourself from your heap. Living a life based on your principles is courageous living. Courage doesn’t mean something drastic, flashy, sexy, sensational like sky diving. Courage can be quiet, unassuming. Again, courage is finding your own voice and using it. And I think you, the way you think, the questions you ask, what fills your head and your heart is courageous. I admire questioners, I admire people who stop and question convention and ask if convention sits right with them. I admire you and think you are on the path to very courageous living!
Oh there are many things I like about you, Charlotte. One is the way you use metaphors. I’m a metaphoraholic, and I can only describe the feeling of ingesting a nice one offered by someone as the multisensory hum of an active beehive. And that probably only makes sense to an apiphile… but it is a compliment
Another thing I like is your ability to stick to the plot. We’ve both been writing. Different topics. With similar undercurrents despite all the differences. And when you comment, you draw from many of these past writings while ‘staying on message’. I appreciate your complex brain.
I think we are both facing the heap and taking stock.
Your honesty is exceeded only by your self-deprecation, but, despite what you think, you are brave, and many of us think of you as a hero.
Thank you, George. I value your comments because I know you are not a sunshine blower. I don’t think I will ever resolve my turmoil, but I think I’m going to have to aim for not letting the turmoil lead to paralysis. Action with trepidation rather than biting one’s tongue with self-recrimination.
Hello, good friend. Are we allowed to call you by name? I am insufficiently blogophilic to understand the conventions at all well.
Action with trepidation! I like that. Ambition? Maybe. But I think you’re pre-fall (pre-lapsarian?) state of contentedness would be a good ambition to pursue. Ted Roethke said, “Contemplation is a curse which makes an old confusion worse.” But he also said, “Being, not doing, is my first joy.” Seems to me “contended doing” creates space for productive contemplation, which can lead to finding something more rewarding to do. Which gets us to the notion of “right recompense”.
I do hope one day we manage to be in the same actual place at the same time.
Love, -G
Yes, sure, you can use my name. Anyone who thinks they are anonymous these days is naive, in my opinion.
I want to dispose of the word ambition and replace it with something less narcissistic and aggressive.
Thanks, Tara. Just saw your permission to name. I’ve been re-reading your original post in this sequence, and the various replies. I have not been following assiduously! But it all sounds grand. “The unexamined life is not worth living.”
Life&Ink and Beyond Black Creek are correspondents of the first water!
I had to look up the first water reference – despite knowing people in the gemstone trade, I hadn’t heard that one before. Thanks! And yes, I would agree with your assessment.
Great post – especially love the last sentence!
Your honesty in this post shows much courage – not many people would be able to share their feelings like this. Bravo Tara, I also think you’re a hero! I personally think it takes a lot of courage to leave your warm safe Canadian home and venture into a land like China. I work with many people who have never ventured beyond our State and some who have never left our city. Hard to imagine in this age of easy travel…
I feel you’ve broken your ankle because you needed to get on with your life but first had to spend some time laying on the sofa doing some serious soul searching … which you’re doing.
I do agree with what I’ll call the first half of your comment, dearrosie, but I am totally suspicious of thinking that our friend broke her ankle for any reason other than the fact she did. She does need to get on with her life. I doubt she needs to be told by friends that she had to break her ankle to do so.
Yes you’re right that it sounds a bit harsh and that’s not what I meant. Sometimes even though we know we need to sit still to gather our thoughts its only after we do something like break our ankles that we’re able to stop our multi-tasking-rushing-about-lifestyles, and sit still.
Thank you, Rosie. But I have great faith in our friend’s ability to contemplate her navel even when she’s rushing around. She just argues with herself about that all the time. Kindness is a balm.
I am taking value from what you both are saying. And I thank you both for these perspectives.
You know, it is interesting, Prior to busting my ankle, I had a month of relative contentedness (something I seldom feel) at this new bullshit job. I had remarked to a friend of mine that normally, I am tortured by ambition that I never feel I live up to, and for the first time, I had let go of ambition and was just doing this job and enjoying this state of not wanting anything more.
Then I fell. At a temple with some students. I joked that Buddha was out to get the atheist. I don’t really believe that, but it’s funny to think about. Anyhow, these three months have seen the return of my ambition and discontent. Praise the lord…!?!
I’ve had two accidents where I should have died, but came out relatively unscathed. And they didn’t move me to action for some reason. A little euphoria, but not action.
Maybe I’m ready for action now. As I said in an earlier comment, I am not sure whether I will lose the discontent as a general state, but if I can turn it into productive action as opposed to contemplation only, that would be excellent.
I’ve read this post 4 or 5 times now, each time meaning to write a meaningful comment and not managing to do so. I do think that what you are doing, sharing so much of your inner self so publicly, is an act of great courage. It’s a theme I’ve endlessly struggled with, having the courage to speak and write honestly and vulnerably. The fear of the consequences still keeps me silent more than I’d like to admit. Keep on doing what you are doing, it’s inspiring to see.
Thank you so much, Nicki. You are reminding me of something I didn’t think of as I was putting together my thoughts on this topic. The process of writing, especially as it has gotten more public, has been long and interesting. When I was 17, I started keeping personal journals – you know back in the day when it was just pen and paper – and a few times, reading back and frustrated with my lack of honesty – even to my private self (!) – I set fire to the whole collection. The first time, it was 10 years worth of journals. It just felt like a pile of lies and half-truths, and I thought to myself that if I couldn’t even be honest with myself, how could I eventually write something someone else would read…? (Wow, really, thank you for reminding me of this. I didn’t even make the connection, and it is very important.)
I suppose I do center a lot of this courage business on being honest to self and others, and to speaking out. I’ve always felt that I wanted to speak and write in the public arena, and that has always been and still is absolutely terrifying. The act itself, but also the exposure, the honesty, the self and external examination, and the potential repercussions.
Hmm, this has been building for longer than I realized. And I’ve also just seen a positive outcome to being publicly honest. I would not have gotten this insight and feedback from you had I not written.
Reading this, and the Good Villager’s reply, I feel encouraged: It’s easy to lose faith in human beings, and this dialogue is living proof that losing faith is a very bad idea. You both make me feel less lonely in the world.
That is a beautiful comment, George. Thank you.
You’ve also inspired me to have a little think about faith and evidence
I admire your ability to write this kind of thing out, I certainly don’t have the writing talent to put something similar into words as well as you do,
Thank you so much, Peter. Believe me, it was a long and painful labour!
D’accord! Thank you, Peter. I do believe that our Tara Good Villager needs to hear these things. She’s phenomenal, but has a hard time believing that!
Can we go with average, but enthusiastic? I think that is more accurate.
No.
Courage is definitely in the eyes of the beholder. But I think the common theme is perhaps doing something even though it is hard. Hard could mean any number of things. For some it is getting out of bed in the morning and facing the day despite fear. For others it might be standing up in the face of injustice despite all that doing so might cost them. To me, doing what you have done over the last 15 years–I envy your courage to set out and chart new waters and meet new people. You are always ready to try something new. Please make sure that with all of the self reflection (which is totally important… I get that) you remember to be kind to yourself. Applaud & celebrate your victories. I miss you
Miss you too
Yes, ultimately, if courage is something we value in our lives, we must decide for ourselves whether our conception of bravery and how we are living align. That’s the test, yes? Hmm, I’m making this sound as if I might need to find myself an identity chiropractor…
Thought provoking. Takes courage to buck the ‘norms’ and to reach out.
Ah yes, norms. Necessary to orienting oneself as a human, but man, they can hold you back as you contemplate where you fit in the world.
Fascinating.
Better suited to many cups of tea and personal conversation. But then again, we all do the best we can!
Let me assure you, if this is a genuine thread in life and value for you, the struggle will continue the rest of your life. (I’m 78, heading for 79.) By now I’ve accepted that the struggle is necessary. Your definition of bravery, of courage, of ambition, of what is your very particular mission in life — will change and shift, grow, become turbulent, calm down. Not attempting to avoid that is one facet of courage!
One thing you don’t want to do is settle for “certainty.” Korean Zen master Seung Sunim writes of “Don’t-Know Mind.” There’s a principle for you to cling to — it will always draw you forward — the direction you want to go. I know these words are written on the wind, but I’ll throw them out anyway: Forget about goals. They’re at best temporary signposts to keep you going forward.
It’s unquestionable from your blog that you’ve continually displayed courage. The fact that you don’t see it that way is — I was going to say meaningless, but it’s more than that. It’s a testimony of humility, which is a testimony of truthfulness.
Whoops! Too much, too long, too soon — but that’s MY temperament. Take what if you want, if you want any of it. And heal well.
No! Not too much, too long, at all. I truly appreciate your words, and there are pieces I am mulling over as I’ve not thought about them in the way you have. Thank you!
I think I know in my heart that struggle and turmoil are necessary. For a number of reasons. I had a lovely back and forth with Life&Ink earlier this year about something related to this.
It may all be in the wind, in the ether, rather than face-to-face with tea and (hopefully) excellent things to nibble on, but I get a lot out of this.