Courage, to me, means that you show up anyway. Regardless of doubt, insecurity, and fear. No matter how many times you’ve been forced into despair before. This is a courage poem to honor that struggle and the strength still left, even when you’re not sure how you can keep going.
Stepping into the unknown? It takes real courage to start and a whole lot of courage to continue.
It doesn’t matter whether it’s a new project you’re excited but equally nervous about or the first time you share a painful personal story or the first time you show up with an open heart after tragedy — that’s a walk that takes courage.
Your boldness could look like sharing your honest opinions, your artwork, your makeup-less face with the world without worrying (too much) about what people think of you.
Personally, this means that I show up here, time and again, to figure out what real healing means. I do it openly. Imperfectly. The best I can. I share with you that I still struggle with depression, the kind that came before my brother’s suicide and the kind that came after.
Personally, I think you’re amazing if you show up for your own healing — willingly, honestly, mindfully, imperfectly, the best you can — whatever heartache you’re healing from.
The person brave enough to share when something hurts is the emblem of courage, not fragility.
Baring your soul, opening your heart, and not even in spite of or despite what happened, but because of what happened: that’s crazy courage in my book. Tragedy and turmoil especially can make us feel like we’ve been beaten down, but then again, it can be an opening for our courage to grow. That’s ultimately up to each of us.
Here’s my courage poem for you, to remind you that you’re far from alone and far stronger than you’ve probably give yourself credit for in the past. In fact, strength has little to do with how strong you feel and far more to do with how you show up anyway.
A Courage Poem
Courage is talking about courage
with tears streaming down your cheeks.
Courage is not knowing
what comes next and
stepping forward, hands unclenched,
right into it.
The bliss of the unknown is not
something you get used to.
Still, wonder opens your eyes
and you see
the first signs of new life
after hope lost
all her petals and leaves —
this is what courage does for you.
There is a boldness to your heart
that matches its softness.
When threads grow apart,
time and again,
you hire love as your seamstress.
Time and again,
you ask love to make you different.
You do not expect to be the same —
nor should you want to.
You did not come into this world
to be untouched by life.
Change is the only way
to learn your eternal name.
This too, you know,
that bliss is the sweet sister
to her beloved:
Nor is fear alien
to a courageous heart —
no more a stranger
than a night sky is
to its star.
. . .
Which part of this poem did you need to read today?
Tell me in the comments. I read every single one, and I'd love to know!
P.S. Want this poem on your wall or desk, so you never forget your strength? Go visit my shop and pick your favorite version!