On Taking a Stance of Courage

A lot of times, when I’m reaching for courage, it’s because I’m feeling anxiety or fear. Most of the time in this modern life, it’s a head game. I’m thinking my way through various scenarios, testing my values, imagining conversations, weighing my options. These stories, regardless of content, are abstractions that can suck up a lot of life force, without actually enhancing my life.

I recently had an opportunity to experience courage in a far more visceral way.

After 36 years of wilderness adventures in the Pacific Northwest, I had my first very close encounter with a cougar!

My companion, one of

the hearts of my heart, was magnificent!

They rooted deep, stood tall, and sang high.

And the beast, a mere twenty feet off, leapt with grace, away from us.

As we hastily climbed out of the canyon through the snow, hearts pounding, legs burning, I realized that my head game was deep in a scary story that had nothing to do with that actual present moment. Anxiety lives in the future, it’s rarely now.

So, I quickly reassessed and looked around, asking myself, “what’s actually true right now?”

The sky is a brilliant blue.

This is a hard climb, but I’m doing it.

I’m ready to see the car, but the path is not blocked!

I’m here with someone dear to me, and we’re euphoric.

Heck, I have a small ax in my pack and I have zero freaking doubt that I’m one fierce mama!

I feel alive! This moment is kind of AWE-some. Oh! And

I can ask for help!

I called out with my heart, asking our benevolent ancestors to surround us, for love to animate us, for safe delivery the rest of the rugged way.

I imagined the line of mothers standing behind me, all fierce badasses, too.

I felt all the fathers, as if they were nodding and maybe even enjoying this a little bit.

I thought of what I’d just witnessed, and said to my companion, “you’re amazing! That was so powerful. You are hard core!” And they took it in, and agreed.

The adrenaline pumped just the way it was designed to, as we reminded each other that this is why we came, to be reminded of our own wild selves.

Of course there is no way of knowing if these thoughts, feelings, and words changed anything for the cougar.

But I know it changed everything for me. And having made it safely back home, that is enough.

As we all navigate forward through these times, I encourage each of us to consciously practice bravery. I’m not recommending confronting massive wild beasts, but I do think there is something to the steady embodiment of visceral courage.

By which I mean, rooting deep, standing tall, singing high, and then doing the

blessed thing we know is uniquely ours to do.

Perhaps one day it looks like setting a personal boundary. Another day it looks like speaking truth to power. Maybe today it’s sending that letter to the editor. Another day it’s joining a community network. Or perhaps it is simply building a moment-by-moment custom of being wildly discerning about when we are feeding our fear, versus finding our feet.

We are here together, in each other’s care, all the rugged way.

Inseparable from flow of Love, Amelia.

*image credit to Wikipedia. I was not thinking about a camera until I could see the car… yes, through sparkly eyes.

Instructions for an Exercise: Calling in Courage

• Lay down in a comfortable place.

• Breathe deep, and allow yourself to make contact with the surface where your body rests. Scan from foot to crown, lingering over any places of tension or other sensation. Is there an emotion or perhaps even a thought or request in those areas of the body? Just notice.

• Now consider your thoughts and feelings about courage, as if it is a separate element you can look at across the room. Be playful and welcoming; say hi.

• What is evoked or provoked for you? Whatever shows up is welcome.

• What qualities does courage possess? How near or far is it?

• Does anything new happen in your body as you’re with this? If it feels nourishing and resourcing to do so, you might invite courage to come closer.

• And then closer still.

• If you wish to let it all the way in, notice where it settles.

This is both freely available and part of you, with every breath.