There are times I feel like Iβm barely keeping my head above water. My body struggles, my sensitivity to energy overwhelms me, and I want to give up. Luckily this never lasts long, as Iβm always reminded of whoβs watching me. My children, my reason to keep pushing on and keep showing up courageously. As we know, children rarely do what you say, they tend to do as you do. And I wish my children will grow up to be kind, honest, courageous people, which means that Iβm going to have to be just that.
We all have our own ideas about what courage means. We tend to connect courage to fearlessness, which is generally only for superheroes and supervillains. But actually, courage is the ability to face fear, pain, danger, uncertainty or challenges despite feeling afraid or unsure. It’s not the absence of fear but the willingness to act in spite of it. It’s about pushing past doubts, embracing discomfort, and doing what needs to be done, even when it’s difficult.
Courage can take many forms. For me, it looks like: Saying no when I know I have to, even if it comes with a cost. Confronting someone when I need to, even if I know I’ll likely be met with ridicule, disdain and anger. Speaking my mind, voicing my needs and stating my boundaries, regardless of what may come as a result. Walking away where love is no longer served, even if it means breaking my own heart. Admitting my mistakes and apologising, even if it won’t lead to forgiveness. Asking for help when I need to, even if it means someone could say no. Trying things I’ve never done before, regardless of potential failure. But the most courageous thing I do, isn’t visible on the outside. It is opening myself up to all emotions, not suppressing, hiding, denying or avoiding anything. Facing everything that’s going on internally and facing every possible worst case scenario and processing everything that comes up when I do. Facing my mortality. Facing the fear of anything bad happening to my children. Facing any state of terror and anxiety, instead of letting it control me.
I found that those with the least amount of courage are generally the ones who take their own stuff out on others. Because if you don’t face yourself and heal what hurt you, you’ll end up bleeding on people who didn’t cut you. Something I’ve deeply understood from a young age, surrounded by bleeding people. So I taught myself courage by embracing radical honesty and responsibility, internally and externally, so I wouldn’t continue the cycle of abuse.
Courage is not a destination but a daily choice. It’s choosing to rise even when you feel broken, to love even when you’ve been hurt, and to trust even when fear whispers that you shouldn’t. It’s not about being unshaken by life’s storms, it’s about standing in the rain, drenched but unwavering. True courage isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it’s the quiet resilience of getting out of bed when your soul feels heavy. Sometimes, it’s simply refusing to let pain define you.
So ask yourself: Where in your life is courage calling you to step forward and face the music, even when it feels terrifying?
This beautiful sign by Astaran supports you in showing up couregeously, exactly as you are and it will helps you face what is holding you back on every layer and in every dimension.
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High resolution digital images.
