“Without fear there cannot be courage.”
― Christopher Paolini
People tend to think that, in this world, there are brave/strong people and ordinary ones. That these brave people do not even need to think twice before running into a fire to save a baby or bungee jumping or even just picking certain bold outfits. A while back, I stumbled upon this brilliant feature from Favor the Brave, where bloggers talk about their bravest moments. One of the courageous ladies is Elizabeth of Delightfully Tacky. Her whole image has always screamed 'bravery' to me. I mean, come on, she has a winnebago called Brave - which she used to go roadtripping across the USA - and when she was a redhead, she has this uncanny resemblance with Merida - true story. Aside from coincidental connections with the word brave, she's also always so straight with her thoughts - one of the reasons why her blog is majorly enjoyable. In fact, she gave us a peek into her thoughts on bravery here. Bravery has always stuck in my mind too. People tend to say that I'm brave/strong when I can get through a situation they can't. They think that I have no fear, that I don't ponder on my actions. That's not true. I probably don't have fear in some fields that they happen to fear but it's not to say that fear is diminished in me altogether. And when I accomplish something in the absence of that fear, that doesn't seem to be something brave to me.
Connexion paisley top // Hand-me-down shorts (from sis) + bag (from Ervina) // Kaufland sandals // vintage bike
Overall, though, bravery or courage isn't a state that lacks fear. If anything, it's that state or action you choose to do in spite of the loudly roaring fear in your eardrums. Bravery isn't something that happens in the absence of fear but something that happens by ignoring that fear because there is something greater at stake, it could be something we do for other people or something we do for ourselves. Now, if someone were to ask me what my bravest moment was, I'd have to think hard about it. Before, I thought moving out of my parents' house to fly over 9,306 miles and live unsupervised was a brave move. I thought it was braver when I moved out of the flat I shared with some friends and lived by myself. I still think they're both pretty brave actions. But the fear I have for both those things aren't as big as riding this bike. Back in Grade School, I had a traumatic experience with a friend's bike. There were consecutive falls/accidents in one day and the bike ended up bent sideways. Since then on, I have this persistent fear of getting on a bike. Before I got this bike, I tried riding a bike Iva won from her college last year and, though that bike was smaller than this one, I could barely ride it. Now that I've overcome that fear, I am so proud of myself and can't wait ride it around town all summer. That, my friends, has got to be my bravest moment so far.