There are so many ways to show that one is brave. To wake up early and address the day, the rain beating a death march on your window, your bed empty, your hearth cold, that takes guts. To fuck up, take your licks, and make a change , that requires courage. To gather and fight against tyranny and injustice, even when the world nervously turns it’s cowardly head, that’s heart. The act of pushing your body up the hill, over the mountain, down the crevasse, through the waves, into the air, that takes balls. To grab the hand of a woman who scares the shit out of you but owns your mind, a lass that fits into you like a puzzle piece when you sleep, leg under leg, arms twisted like vines, boy does that use up just about all your grit. And for that lady to rage against the fear that holds her captive, she will be a hero today. To rally against the dragons in your head, maybe to not slay but to domesticate and put them to work, that’s power. Every day we do something that requires every last inch of our resolve. Perhaps it is an act that some other body makes with ease. Nevertheless, courageous efforts are occurring all around us, all of the time. Let us salute that moment in ourselves and in others with the hope that in our time of struggle the crowd is cheering us to glory.
p.s Sorry for the sanctimoniousness. Crass, illiterate ramblings to follow stat.