Courage is an indispensable yet--even in psychotherapy--surprisingly underrated commodity. Life requires courage. Yet we tend to lose sight of its vital meaning, power and importance. I am not speaking solely here of the obvious physical courage of the daredevil, boxer, soldier or superhero, or the selfless courage of those willing to risk their own skin to rescue others, but of the extraordinary, heroic courage demanded of each of us every day.
Consider the courage it takes to live on this undeniably dangerous planet of ours, where earthquakes, tsunamis, epidemics, volcanic eruptions, tornadoes, hurricanes or a random meteor strike can, at any moment, destroy our dwellings and kill us or our loved ones, as tragically happened in Alabama and Mississippi this week. Or where we and our forebears could daily be attacked and eaten by lions, tigers, wolves, snakes, bears or monstrous dinosaurs like T-Rex. Or savagely murdered by some rival tribe or gang, be the innocent victim of a street shooting, school massacre or violent home invasion, or brutally mugged in the park or street. Where routine commercial airplane flights can be hijacked by religious or political fanatics and deliberately crashed
into some building or blown out of the sky. Where, as in Japan most recently, nuclear reactors catastrophically fail, contaminating our air, food and water. And where a hydrogen bomb in the hands of terrorists or during wartime could instantly vaporize entire cities and precipitate a devastating "nuclear winter" across the planet. A world where, on any given day, we or those we care for could be killed or crippled in a car crash, hit by a bus, or suffer a massive heart attack or debilitating stroke. Or where a fascistic government can for little or no reason have citizens arrested and secretly executed for speaking out, seeking freedom, or simply being of a certain ethnic background. A world in which famine, drought, rampant unemployment or global economic crisis can profoundly threaten not only our way of life, but our fundamental ability to feed our families. Given these terrifying facts of life, how do we muster the courage each day to get out of bed and face such stark, existential reality?
Yet, most of us do just that. We get up, get dressed, go to school or work, face the speeding two-ton hunks of shiny steel hurtling down the freeway, the abusive spouse, parent or boss, and the ever-present dangers of participating in this extraordinarily perilous postmodern place. How? Well, for most, the solution is
unconsciousness. Denial. The easiest way is to block out our awareness of these ubiquitous existential threats. Then, no courage is really necessary. For where there is no perceived risk, nothing to fear, no threat, who needs courage? But there is definitely a high cost to this strategic unconsciousness: We sacrifice our vitality, self-awareness, sensitivity and capacity to fully experience our environment in all its volatile terror, beauty and wonder. Of course, we all need some sense of comfort, safety and security in life. Such self-deception (see my
prior post) serves this defensive purpose, and is, to some extent, psychologically sound. Too much reality can be overwhelming for the fragile human psyche. Yet, this universal tendency toward rendering ourselves oblivious or blind to life's inherent riskiness can itself be seen as a failure of courage.
What is courage? Courage is a kind of strength, power or resolve to meet a scary circumstance head on. Courage is called upon whenever we confront a difficult, frightening, painful or disturbing situation. When our resources are challenged or pushed to the absolute limit. When we feel threatened, weak, vulnerable, intimidated or terrified. When our first instinctive reaction is to flee. At such times, life is begging an existential question of us: Can we find the courage to face and defeat our fear, or will we be defeated by it? Can we call forth what theologian Paul Tillich called our "courage to be" ? Or will we cowardly choose instead, as Shakespeare's Hamlet deliberates, "not to be"? (See my prior posts on Hercules and the hero myth.)
Courage, is of course, synonymous with bravery and fortitude. But today, we have lost the true essence of courage. The word
courage comes from the French root
cour or
coeur, which means heart. So courage has to do with the heart, that vital muscle that keeps our blood flowing and sustains life. Symbolically, the heart represents the spiritual core or innermost center of feelings, especially
eros. Many centuries ago, the concept of courage referred to the emotions, feelings or
daimonic passions in general, including lust, love, anger or rage. Love and sexual passion can be the catalyst for courageous action. A mother's love for her children can lead to courageously laying her life down to save her offspring. Falling in love and sexual lust encourage us to reach out to one another and risk relationship. And platonic love and compassion encourages us to selflessly help those less fortunate than ourselves, say, as in the case of Mother Teresa.
The connection between anger, rage and courage (
cou-rage) is especially key: Courage often requires the energizing, fortifying
daimonic affects of anger or rage to precipitate, fuel or sustain it. As Rollo May (1981) explains, "Encountering one's destiny requires strength, whether the encounter takes the form of embracing, accepting, or attacking. . . . Constructive anger is one way of encountering destiny." And, I would add, of generating courage. As well as countering apathy, depression and despair. Today, this more complex understanding of courage persists when we refer to someone very brave as "having a lot of heart," i.e., being intensely passionate. Mel Gibson's character, hot-tempered Scottish freedom fighter William Wallace in
Braveheart (1995) is a fine example of such raging courage.
Courage is required in almost every basic human activity or endeavor. For instance, to allow oneself to love and commit to another person takes immense courage. Separating from our parents and forging an independent life for ourselves is a courageous act. To survive an abusive, traumatic or neglected childhood with some sense of dignity and integrity intact demonstrates tremendous courage and resilience. Getting old demands courage. (See my prior post "Staring at Sixty.") It takes courage to authentically be oneself in the world, and, as May (1976) points out in The Courage to Create, to dare to be truly creative, to artistically express and expose one's innermost self. Career or relationship changes require courage As does pursuing one's fondest dreams, or, as Joseph Campbell put it, to "follow your bliss." Indeed, it takes terrific courage to live, and to do so creatively, lovingly, meaningfully and productively.
