What Is Courage?
Courage
is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more
important than fear.
- Ambrose Redmoon
Courage
is resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not absence of fear.
- Mark Twain
Courage
is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway.
- John Wayne
I like
the definitions of courage above, which all suggest that courage is the ability
to get yourself to take action in spite
of fear. The word courage derives from the Latin cor, which means
"heart." But true courage is more a matter of intellect than of
feeling. It requires using the uniquely human part of your brain (the
neocortex) to wrest control away from the emotional limbic brain you share in
common with other mammals. Your limbic brain signals danger, but your neocortex
reasons that the danger isn't real, so you simply feel the fear and take action
anyway. The more you learn to act in spite of fear, the more human you become.
The more you follow the fear, the more you live like a lower mammal. So the
question, "Are you a man or a mouse?" is consistent with human
neurology.
Courageous
people are still afraid, but they don't let the fear paralyze them. People who
lack courage will give into fear more often than not, which actually has the
long-term effect of strengthening the fear. When you avoid facing a fear and
then feel relieved that you escaped it, this acts as a psychological reward
that reinforces the mouse-like avoidance behaviour, making you even more likely
to avoid facing the fear in the future. So the more you avoid asking someone
out on a date, the more paralyzed you'll feel about taking such actions in the
future. You are literally conditioning yourself to become more timid and
mouse-like.
Such
avoidance behaviour causes stagnation in the long run. As you get older, you
reinforce your fear reactions to the point where it's hard to even imagine
yourself standing up to your fears. You begin taking your fears for granted;
they become real to you. You cocoon yourself into a life that insulates you
from all these fears: a stable but unhappy marriage, a job that doesn't require
you to take risks, an income that keeps you comfortable. Then you rationalize
your behaviour: You have a family to support and can't take risks, you're too
old to shift careers, you can't lose weight because you have "fat"
genes. Five years... ten years... twenty years pass, and you realize that your
life hasn't changed all that much. You've settled down. All that's really left
now is to live out the remainder of your years as contently as possible and
then settle yourself into the ground, where you'll finally achieve total safety
and security.
But
there's something else going on behind the scenes, isn't there? That tiny voice
in the back of your mind recalls that this isn't the kind of life you wanted to
live. It wants more, much more. It wants you to become far wealthier, to have
an outstanding relationship, to get your body in peak physical condition, to
learn new skills, to travel the world, to have lots of wonderful friends, to
help people in need, to make a meaningful difference. That voice tells you that
settling into a job where you sell widgets the rest of your life just won't cut
it. That voice frowns at you when you catch a glance of your oversized belly in
the mirror or get winded going up a flight of stairs. It beams disappointment
when it sees what's become of your family. It tells you that the reason you
have trouble motivating yourself is that you aren't doing what you really ought
to be doing with your life... because you're afraid. And if you refuse to
listen, it will always be there, nagging you about your mediocre results until
you die, full of regrets for what might have been.
So how do
you respond to this ornery voice that won't shut up? What do you do when
confronted by that gut feeling that something just isn't right in your life?
What's your favourite way to silence it? Maybe drown it out by watching TV,
listening to the radio, working long hours at an unfulfilling job, or consuming
alcohol and caffeine and sugar.
But
whenever you do this, you lower your level of consciousness. You sink closer
towards an instinctive animal and move away from becoming a fully conscious
human being. You react to life instead of proactively going after your goals.
You fall into a state of learned helplessness, where you begin to believe that
your goals are no longer possible or practical for you. You become more and
more like a mouse, even trying to convince yourself that life as a mouse might
not be so bad after all, since everyone around you seems to be OK with it. You
surround yourself with your fellow mice, and on the rare occasions that you
encounter a fully conscious human being, it scares the hell out of you to
remember how much of your own courage has been lost.