I am not brave.
But then I am.
I play it safe sometimes, but then big decisions and little alike push me past my tolerance and I move ahead: Brave and trembling. Willing or not.
I push ahead and fear pushes back. I win and lose, but then it’s really winning. As long as I am awake and here, dreaming and alive to now, it is a good thing.
Sometimes I wished I led a grander life with more risk and a bigger return.
If only I stopped playing it safe so much. Risked a little more. Dared more. Did more. Spent more time on some things less on others.I always have something I might like to change.
Sometimes I think I miss the simple ways of brave. These days I’m planting my feet a little more firmly in the here of my life.
Settling into the daily brave that is sometimes overlooked. Not to say that my life is oh so brilliant or boring, but just to pause a minute and acknowledge the under the surface brave that happens here.
Because sometimes that takes more brave then I’d like it to. Sometimes brave look s like engaging when is rather check out. Expressing my opinion when I’d rather not risk the honesty of a good relationship.
It takes brave for me to show up for the people I know again and again always risking something of myself to be with them on a whole way.
It’s brave to live on the surface less and to love out loud and deep more.
It’s brave to fight, to question, to support, to love, to talk.
No matter how many times I am confronted with my own cautiousness in some areas.
I am brave.
And so are you.
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