Quiet Courage

Once a boss asked me what my boldest venture to date was.

Probably, he was asking to get to know me a little—or to set expectations for the new project I was going to work on.

And boy, that made me think. Mind you, the question was being asked by a leader at least three levels above me. I was supposed to spit out my answer and save his time.

I’m usually obedient, but that question happened to be one of my favorite topics to mull over.

So I thought in his overbearing presence, and I spoke as if I was letting my thoughts take shape in the air outside of my head.

“…I’m afraid I don’t read the word bold—or being courageous—with a singular meaning.
I skydived when I was 27.
Scuba-dived when I didn’t even know how to swim.
I got a tattoo to remind myself I wasn’t afraid of needles—or of being branded with an emblem for life.

So to me, doing something bold isn’t so much about bravery…

It’s about a quiet acceptance—not as a resignation to fate, but a deliberate choice. 

Acceptance of the weight of regrets or guilt that may follow and the disappointment of my loved ones that is almost certain to come—and still choosing it. Every time. 

Because in the end, I’ve decided to serve this soul, even if it means carrying the burden of my choices.”

He blinked—maybe a little surprised—like he’d expected something louder, more bolder.

I just nodded. Acceptance, mate?!

That was it.

I never did find out what he really meant when he asked me that question.
And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t either.