Courage to me means owning my emotions: acknowledging my own feelings to myself, admitting what I feel, allowing myself to feel that way and, if necessary, telling people around me who might be involved/connected/affected by my emotions.
Courage to me yesterday meant walking back into a full classroom, after being away from campus for a year and a half because of COVID, and telling my students, almost with tears in my eyes, how overwhelmed I felt and how scattered my brain was.
Courage to me today means writing here that the relief I felt so intensely and proudly for a couple days last week after the conversation with the bouldered was then replaced by a sense of loss, and thus sadness, over the weekend.
Courage for me today means writing that I am afraid. Afraid of not ever finding what I really want, especially now that it’s becoming more and more clear to me.
The sense of loss that overcame most of my other emotions this weekend is not related to that one person or conversation specifically; it’s more that that clarifying and relieving conversation, which brought me so much well-deserved liberation and closure (and pride!) last week, has brought to the forefront issues in which I seem to keep incurring.
I would like (a) partner(s) with whom I could share more closely my lively, adventurous, playful, even childish approach to life — someone with whom I could share a weekend of camping and rock-climbing, or sailing; or take off for a road trip and go exploring; or walk aimlessly along the beach taking photos; or sit and (not) talk. Someone with whom to build “something” without that “something” being a “traditional family” or a “shackled relationship”.
And over the course of my life, I have met people with whom I’ve gotten close to this type of relationship or “dream”. My first two “loves” were really close to this “ideal” I have — and for this I am extremely grateful: I will always cherish and treasure those persons and relationships, also knowing that the love I had with them helped me to go into life with a “buoying gift in my heart”. And then, since moving to California, I seem to have been getting closer to persons who want similar things in life as me, but it’s never quite “right”. In the end, there always seems to be some big “deal-breaker” or “wrong timing” or “emotional unavailability”. My vision seems to turn into a mirage, as if I had seen — or imagined — something that wasn’t truly there…
So am I imagining things? Is the strength of my own imagination overshadowing reality and not allowing me to see what is truly there? Or is it more of a cultural or maturity-level issue?
Many of these persons have been unable (or unwilling) to face “elephants in the room” with me until I brought it up. I might have partly caused their incapacity (or unwillingness) to be fully open and honest with me because I am so strong (or “intense”, as people often say here). But stating one’s own boundaries and feelings is the sign of a person’s maturity and, often, also an act of compassion towards other person(s) — And for this specific reminder, I am very grateful to the friend who visited with me yesterday evening and phrased it so well: thanks!
So maybe my take-away message for today is that courage also lies in — or can be expressed through — emotional maturity and compassion…
The Little Prince and the Fox 