choosing courage over comfort
"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
– Theodore Roosevelt, 1910
Having the energy to explore the “slot” canyons at Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument in Santa Fe brought immense joy.
I’d like you to take a moment to pause and think about the last time you did something courageous.
Were you uncomfortable?
Were you worried about what others would think of you?
Were you afraid of emotional exposure?
Were you worried about failing?
I’m guessing you answered yes to most of the above, right? I’m also guessing despite these worrisome sentiments you still chose to show up and take a risk – that, my friend, is the call to courage.
Last night, I watched Brené Brown’s special on Netflix called the Call to Courage and you absolutely should too. It’s a feature about “uncomfortable” emotions like vulnerability, shame, anxiety, fear, and uncertainty. It’s about having hard conversations with loved ones, colleagues, and strangers. It’s about taking a risk when you can’t predict the outcome.
From her past two decades studying courage, vulnerability, shame, and empathy, Brown has found that despite experiencing these “uncomfortable” emotions, those who did still lived amazing and inspired lives. In other words, choosing courage over comfort matters a great deal because it teaches you how to rise in the face of failure. Courage requires showing up, taking chances, and entering the “public arena” knowing you will “fail, fall, and experience heartbreak.” Courage requires vulnerability, and vulnerability requires bravery.
In the Call to Courage, Brown quotes Theodore Roosevelt’s “Citizenship in a Republic” speech from 1910. More commonly known as “The Man in the Arena,” Roosevelt said the following; “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena…”
Over a century later, his words still ring true.
Brown discusses how the age of the Internet has cultivated a platform for online rudeness, where virtual anonymity and a lack of accountability fuels adversity and anger. In her Netflix feature, she says, “There are millions of cheap seats in the world today filled with people who will never once step foot in that arena. They will never once put themselves out there. But they will make it a full-time job to hurdle criticism and judgment and really hateful things toward us. And we have got to get out of the habit of catching them and dissecting and holding them close to our hearts. We've got to let them drop on the floor.” Wow, just wow.
Let’s be honest, it’s hard to be vulnerable. When I was considering the launch of this blog, I was worried about putting myself out there. I was worried about what friends, colleagues, or even strangers would think of me. Did I really want to share my first experience with a panic attack? Or the fact my current state of disability required asking my parents for financial support? Of course, I didn’t really want to, but I did so anyway.
Just as the results of Brown’s research connected vulnerability to fulfillment, I quickly realized the reward of inspiring and connecting with others in the chronic illness community would outweigh any feelings of discomfort that might arise. I launched the Intuitive Swan because I wanted to create more love, joy, and intimacy in this world. To do so, I had to acknowledge the following: “I know this might make me uncomfortable, but I’m willing to take the risk.”
Recently, I wrote on an Instagram post how I want to be open and vulnerable about my struggles in a way that won't lead to misunderstandings. This means, at first, I was self-conscious when I posted photos when I was experiencing joy. My fear of what others would think made me wonder if I should post as much of the bad, as I do of the good. But that doesn’t seem fair, does it?
At the end of the day, sharing only the bad stuff isn’t who I am. I’ve learned to be specific about the opinions that do and should matter to me. I will never be able to satisfy everyone, and that’s okay. To speak my truth is to know I’m an optimist at heart who’s here to not only share the realities of living with a chronic illness, but also my victories. As Brown said so beautifully, we can’t create more love, joy, and intimacy if we’re afraid to be seen - the chance for joy is worth the risk of any heartbreak or failure.
So here I am showing up, grateful for my ability to heal and my ability to be heard. Grateful for my strengths and for my weaknesses. By the way, being vulnerable is not a weakness. While being vulnerable opens us up to uncertainty and emotional exposure, it requires us to live with what Brown describes as wholehearted living:
“Wholehearted living is about engaging in our lives from a place of worthiness. It means cultivating the courage, compassion, and connection to wake up in the morning and think, No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough. It’s going to bed at night thinking, Yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn’t change the truth that I am also brave and worthy of love and belonging.“ - Brene Brown.
Today, I choose courage, compassion, and joy. And on the days when I can’t go out and about to experience joy, I choose gratitude, because that too, is a wholehearted gift.