Getting Muddy

San Francisco 2013 024

I think courage comes in a multitude of ways. We often hear it associated with war or soldiering, firefighting, policing, or something of the sort. And though I’ve never been engaged in any of those activities, I am sure they require one to forgo one’s innate fear which kicks in the innate flight response… but lately, I’ve been thinking about a different kind of courage.

The kind which allows you to wait in a relationship while you are working things out, the kind which allows you to hold a friends hand during a scary health situation, the kind which allows you to continue to inspire even when you do not feel inspiration, the kind which allows you to admit you are weak or tired or both, the kind which allows you to go into the mire and muck with people and get muddy.

There are so many fears in this world, that it is natural for us to want to survive and take care of ourselves first. But when we enter into the mud with another person, we are saying essentially, “screw what may or may not happen, screw the violence around this place, screw the fear that I have of not getting far enough in society, screw the fear I have of being drug down by someone else’s problems, screw the to-do list I should have had completed two seconds ago… I believe that you matter right now, and I am here for you. I am breathing life into a situation which you can’t see the life in because I believe, at the end of this crappy day, love conquers all.”

It is not being afraid of getting muddy, of getting soaked, of letting the mascara run. Today, this is courage to me. May we have the courage to get filthy.

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2 thoughts on “Getting Muddy

  1. Wow. Some synchronicity tonight. I posted something related on FB tonight, plus a friend reached out to me who feels abandoned by friends now that he is having marital difficulty. I pray I can have the courage to ignore the mud, ignore the stuff that may be in the mud, ignore those looking down from the sidewalk, and just keep hold of the one mired.

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