No one has ever accused me of being brave. I’ve been called a chicken, a coward, a scaredy-cat, and so on, since I was small. Not brave.
I love to travel, hate to fly. Love to drive, afraid of snowy roads. Love amusement parks, afraid to ride the rides. Love the ocean, afraid of being eaten by a shark. Love the mountains, can’t sleep in the woods. Do you get the idea?
Sunday morning I was getting ready for church, scrounging through my closet and thinking about ideas from YouLookFab, a blog I enjoy. The author, IMHO, is cool. She’s bold, confident, not afraid to have an opinion or expose herself to the opinions of others. I pulled some things off the rack and tossed them on the bed. Very stylish. Very fab.
But what would people think?
(That voice in my head would be the infamous internal editor writers deal with. In my case, the wench goes everywhere with me, all the time. Have you ever tried to cook dinner with an internal editor yammering at you?)
I put the clothes back in the closet and started a new search for something a bit less exciting. Helena Bonham Carter popped into my head.
- Brave isn’t just about clothing choices. It’s everything. It’s not being afraid to speak to a stranger, not being afraid to make a friend, not being afraid to bring correction when correction is due.
- Brave is facing adversity with strength and courage, not woe-is-me whining and sniveling.
- Brave is following your heart without second-guessing every choice, always looking over your shoulder to see what everyone thinks about it.
- Brave is creating art (music, writing, film, whatever) that crosses lines, exposes truth, and forces people to think about their lives and the way they live them, whether they like it or not.
- Brave is taking a stand for an unpopular cause, doing what’s right because it’s right, not because it earns you anything.
There’s a brave person trapped inside this body, and she wants out.
But first I’m going to have to figure out a way to do away with that internal editor…