“Sometimes, the most courageous act a human can do is to let somebody love them.” ~ Michael Xavier
I have discovered that courage is a magical thing…a great thing.
Yet a thing that is very small and timid, to be found in the hem of a very long night;
a tiny spark wrapped in fear,
flickering under the edge of a very heavy sword about to drop;
a surprisingly delicate pair of wings, hidden on a rocky shore pounded by a very big storm.
Courage is not a big step into some greatness or otherness;
it is not the slaying of dragons…
it is not the saving of worlds.
Courage is an embrace, never a shield.
A smallness…of steps, breaths, flutterings…
the beginning of a humble resistance to what insults the soul
like a star planted in the graveyard of all that seems hopeless.
And we find it only when we lack it most.
But why do we need such a thing?
We need it, I discovered, so that our afraid-ness can enter uncertainty with open eyes…
so that we can stand and waver and fall and stand again
through one more second of doubt, and then one more…and then all the seconds after that.
Because a lifetime has many seconds.
We need it so that we can love and let ourselves be loved.
We need it so that we can know why we need it.