Speaking of courage...

As one of the "Two Cents" contributors to the SF Chronicle, I get a couple of questions every week for "man on the street" commentary. A couple of days ago, I got the following question:

"When was the last time you had to be brave?"

Normally, I rattle off a highly quotable answer. But this one stumped me. At first, I thought about my martial arts training. It takes a certain courage to smash my hand through a stack of bricks or to spar with a black belt for whom "light contact" means sending me flying 5 feet instead of 10. Then I thought about the Reiki meeting I organized, which didn't actually involve a lot of effort OR courage, but still sort of terrified me in the way giving a toast terrifies nerds.

But then I thought about war, about US and Iraqi fighters both facing a deadly unknown - each other. I thought about peace protesters risking life, limb, and liberty against jittery riot police. I thought about heroes who run into burning buildings to save someone or stand up to an aggressor or even donate a kidney.

What exactly does it mean to be brave? I've never risked my life in an act of courage. Is that what it means to be brave? I don't know.

I ended up giving a very non-quote-worthy answer about how I try to break through my own fears every day, but I've never risked my life. Perhaps we have degrees of courage. Some sit in front of the tv all night, work in a cube all day, living quiet, desperate lives, insulated from fear by pork rinds and pizza. Some make courage such an assumed part of their lives that they no longer think of it as an "act of".

And what of those for whom bravery is a self-indulgence, whose acts of courage extend only to the salvation of their own lives? I think of thrill-seekers who may or may not consider risking their lives for a cause greater than an adrenaline rush. But I realize that's a reflection - in all the small victories I engage in, the daily confrontation with my own shadows, the only person I'm saving is me. Moi. Justin. Myself. That's it - no burning buildings, no small children playing in traffic.

Perhaps courage is a habit, to be conditioned through persistent exercise. I do believe that my own breakthroughs, large and small, habitualize courage. That doesn't make them any easier. I have a non-existent novel to demonstrate that, along with several unpublished short stories and essays and a half-written screenplay. But I feel as if my own journey is leading up to something. I don't know what. Perhaps someday I'll be called upon. I'd like to think that when the time comes, my experiences of facing down fear will play a part in my future success.

So in answer to the question "When was the last time you had to be brave?" I could say I haven't, yet. Or I could say just today, in a writing class, when one of the world's greatest fantasy authors ripped my story to shreds in front of everyone and I took it all in without crying.

Or I could say just say this morning, when I bloody got out of bed.