I used to believe that being courageous meant to remove fear from everything, to treat it as some sort of disease, tainting anything it encountered.
I would confine fear to the corners of my mind, a metaphorical time out for my feelings, shaming them into submission, silencing their pleas and cries for respite. Now, I see courage as more of an act of resilience, a quiet confidence, defying traditional conventions of self-criticism; a gentle breeze guiding me towards my future.
While courage is often placed on a pedestal, I believe fear should as well.
Fear reminds us of where we came from, of the old hurdles we have since surmounted, showing us of our own, often hidden strengths, while also harkening back to times of growth from procrastination. Fear lives in harmony with hope, healing, and renewal; they cannot exist without each other. We need fear, for it allows us to show ourselves how capable we are. We must make the difficult decision to hear it yet make the choice to comfort it through our continued progression, rather than succumbing to it.
Fear, then, is a test in and of itself.
It provides the power to make the final decision, with us being the ones to write the answers and to submit them, fear simply offers the framework for our own self-assessment. Fear does not speak up to prevent us from succeeding, rather, it raises its voice so we may shout back louder, confident, self-assured, no longer wavering with a shaky tone of self-doubt. Listen to the fear, for it is our greatest teacher.
Whenever fear appears, know that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
Without fear, we would have no reason to celebrate our victories, no recognition of what it took to overcome an obstacle, nothing to encourage us to be proud of our accomplishments. Fear honours us with the gift of being able to say, ‘I did it anyway’. Fear allows us to make the choice to have courage, to stand firm in who we are, no matter what may come. Fear is our most loving supporter, our most cherished protector, and our biggest enemy. Fear pushes us, meeting us at our previous limits, showing us the checkpoint of where we can witness our own growth. It gives us the power to choose the path forward but will not shame us if we don’t yet feel ready to pursue it.
Fear is not here to judge us, rather, it is here to illuminate, exclaiming ‘this is where we were, this is where we are now; do you feel ready to continue?’. It is on us, then, to make the decision of what this means. We can see fear as some form of judgement for our own perceived inadequacy, or we can choose to see it as a form of compassion, of recognition, for the pain we have had to endure.
Fear wants us to succeed, but it also wants us to be present and aware while we do so, cheering us on as we make the decision to push through the resistance, to choose growth, to choose ourselves.
This, then, is why divine courage is not without fear; fear is the friend, the love, the fuel, propelling us towards our destiny.