A few weeks back, I tried to get some feedback on what “courage” means to different people, mostly because I'm not sure what my definition of courage is.
I received a few responses, like these:
“Courage is, in part, not needing the affirmation of others to be the person you really are.”
“To me courage means being terrified, but doing what has to be done anyway.”
Over the last week, I encountered the courage/bravery conundrum again, related to my writing. I was on the radio to promote The Pride of Central, then the next day I had a signing event at a local coffee shop. As has happened before, I was told that I was “brave” to put my writing out there for the public and to appear live on the radio.
I still don't feel brave. I don't see myself as courageous.
However, if I go by the two responses above, I was.
During the signing event, I had a handful of people buy The Pride of Central, and many others who talked with me about writing. But I had dozens more completely ignore my table. Even people who came in and read a book with their coffee often passed by without a glance or a word. I kept hoping they would be interested in at least speaking to me, but often I was invisible to them.
But no matter how much the “nos” outnumber the “yeses”, I'm not going to change what I do. I wrote The Pride of Central and continue to promote it for a reason – but that reason is not the affirmation of others. I want this story to impact lives. Regardless of who dismisses me, I need to keep promoting the story for the sake of someone out there who might need to read it.
That being said, I can be very scared in the process. When I was on the radio, I was terrified. Though I have done public speaking for years, usually while helping with Compassion International, I've never grown comfortable with it. Nevertheless, I kept speaking in front of crowds for years to help get children sponsored. Last week, I spoke into a microphone for an audience of who knows how many people to promote my book.
Afterwards, people told me that I sounded great and did a good job promoting my book without giving any plot points away. But I still felt shaky on the inside. I knew I would. But I did it because I felt I had to. What if one of those people who the story could reach was listening that morning? I had to try no matter how nervous I was.
I didn't feel courageous. But maybe that's part of the definition that I did not know.
When you are being truly courageous, you will probably never feel it.
Next week: What you didn't write