In a small group recently, I asked a simple question. 

 

"When were you brave?"

 

The room went quiet as people who perhaps did not already include courage in their self image considered this. 

 

"Am I brave? Have I ever been?" they wondered.

 

The stories that followed seemed as surprising to the speakers as to the listeners. This new descriptor fit loosely on the actions they took years ago. Or maybe it was stupidity. 

 

In either case, I was moved by the willingness of people to share those circumstances that asked them to step way outside their comfort zones, over the yellow tape that says "STAY BACK!" They expressed being unsure of themselves, and yet the compelling needs that drew them in filled in the gaps where confidence should have been. 

 

People said it was hard. Not just at the outset, but in the follow through. At no point did they slide into a familiar rhythm. They just kept going. 

 

Most of us accepted that the stretch had brought benefits, mingled in with the angst. Looking back it felt like providence was at play. 

 

I asked the question not because I think of myself as plucky. Everyone in my family knows I cannot bear a roller coaster, or traveling alone in a new city. And yet when my children were hospitalized, or my heart asked me to reach out to someone who might reject me, an energy not my own carried me. 

 

"Courage is fear that has said her prayers."