When Brave Looks Like Stupid

This morning. Interior — My house — Husband’s office.

Janet enters the room dressed in workout gear. She sits down on the step for the first time in three weeks without wincing and puts on her shoes. Her husband is at his desk distractedly looking at car porn on the computer.

Janet: I’m going to try the hike today.

Husband: Do you think that’s a good idea?

Janet: I’m feeling better. Besides, I’m tired of sitting on my ass. I need some fresh air.

Husband: But the hike? We have air here.

Janet: Sally will be with me…

Husband: That’s what worries me.

Janet: I told her I would only do the first half. (Beat) I’m walking toward the pain.(Beat) Hey, tell me I’m brave.

Husband: Are you? Is it? Is it brave or is it stupid?

She stands up, gives him a kiss on the back of his neck and leaves.

So, yeah, that happened this morning and it got me thinking.
What is bravery anyway? Doing something IN SPITE of the fear, right? Marching ahead. Not being swayed by the voices in your head who’ve cautioned you, and warned you, and have now called a special session in order to intercede on your behalf.

But wait. Doesn’t brave always look like stupid first?

Half a hike is all the brave I’m capable of these days. A tiny shot glass full of bravery.
I’m not out there slaying dragons, raising kids or starting organizations that curb the spread of human trafficking.
I’m putting one tennis shoe’d foot in front of the other—on a dirt hill—three weeks after surgery.

The repercussions of this simple act could be terrific—or horrifyingly stupid.

But isn’t that the way you walk that kind of tightrope (literally and figuratively?) You cross your fingers (Dear God not your toes) and you hope if you fall that you have panties on when your skirt flies up and over your face, that you don’t scream something you’ll regret, and all the way down —you pray for a net .

You want to change jobs. The voices all yell “That sounds stupid”, as they hand you the fourteen-page manifesto on why that’s such a bad idea.

The same goes for changing spouses, hair color, sexes, or your mind.

“Isn’t that stupid?” they ask with concern, and they are genuinely concerned about the really bad choice it looks like you’re about to make.

But I say it’s brave.

It’s scary as shit—but you’re doing it anyway. Walking straight into pain. Yep, brave always looks like stupid first. Mostly to the cautious and uninitiated.
Or to the husbands who have to pick your sobbing ass up off the floor when you “overdue it.”

Anyhow, that’s my belief and I’m sticking to it.

And just so I don’t feel bad, let’s say, for now anyway, that it’s okay to take our bravery one tiny shot glass at a time.

Carry on,
xox