being brave - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
I feel the fear. I take a step forwards. I feel the fear. I take a step forwards. And then, as if by magic, I find confidence, I find my voice. The difference between taking the step forwards or not is everything. And over a lifetime it defines who you are. All those steps build a brave soul and, in time, an accomplished person who does much for others, one who has their own respect and love too. Being brave becomes a way of being, one to embrace.
Being brave means being afraid, or at least it does for me. The two go hand in hand. First is the fear, then the determination not to be ruled by it. I will always choose to face fear, to conquer it, for how else are we to make true progress in life? I will not be moulded by those who want me conveniently placated; I will not shy from the battlefields they create. Though my heart my often beats fast and my fingers tingle from an excess of adrenaline, I am a warrior at heart. Faced with adversity I have an ability for calm and rational thought - to me that is a blessing.
Being brave for me was always a conscious choice. When I see a tidal wave of fear my feet want to run away, of course they do. Yet instead I choose to ride the wave and see where it takes me. I am not a fearless person by nature, quite the opposite, but I will not be mastered by such a basic emotion, a primal urge. My developed brain must always be the part to lead me, listening to my instincts and making the right choices.
I was almost ten when I figured out the true cause of bullying in schools, but who's gonna listen to some kid? Anyway, I'll tell you the story, let you decide if I'm right or if I'm a bit cracked in the head. We had the best classroom teacher, she was so awesome. We got our work done and there was still had time to relax and laugh. No-one got bullied, it was more like being part of a big family than a classroom.
Then one day our teacher was sick, we didn't know it, but she would be out for weeks. Her replacement arrived like she'd come to wage war on us. No speaking was tolerated or it was names on the board, minutes standing outside the room and whole class detentions at recess and after school. We lost our appetite for work and kids who had always been sweet to one another, caring like siblings, turned on the nicest kid in the class because he wore old sneakers. That kid was, and still is, my best friend since kindergarten. That's when I knew, you put that much pressure into a classroom, where do you expect it to go? They can't take it out on the teachers, so the most soft natured kid gets it. The next day I wore the oldest and smelliest sneakers I could find and sat next to my buddy of five years, if they wanted a slice of him they'd have to take me on too.
So that's when I knew, kids aren't naturally mean, they're just kids - but put in a teacher who bullies and puts stress on them and watch them change. Glib slogans are easy, leading by example is hard.
Leon followed the sound of the sobs. Lucky for him Gayla always cried like there was a gale inside her fighting to get out. He sat on the damp pavement right next to her and followed her gaze to the moon, saying nothing. She wiped her nose with her sleeve and glanced his way. “I always fail, Papa. Always. Why do you even bother?”
“Gayla, I was there when you came into this world. I know you, the real one inside, not the one you show the world. You're beautiful.”
“But I rage, I get angry, I forget what you said and I mess up all over again.”
Leon held her gaze, “I love you and that will never change. You are human like the rest of us and you make mistakes. You will continue to make them too, as do I. But what's so special about you is that you own them, feel the hurt and force the pain to make you better.” Gayla's sobs had ebbed to a trickle and she took Leon's hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze and together they walked back into the house.
Being brave isn't the same thing as being stupid. Often it pays to weigh up the pros and cons of action vs. inaction. I can think of many instances where the brave choice was to walk away. When a situation is intractable, when every move is a bad move, it can take courage to take yourself out of the equation. High emotions are often, though not always, counter productive. There are times for meeting fire with fire, and others for meeting it with ice.
I see you there in the shadows of my mind; I see the calculation behind every move you make. You are a technician of a chess player, but so am I. With your stature you must invoke fear in so many, using your position to every advantage. I understand you. The fear you once reigned over me is ebbing, not yet fully under control, but reducing little by little. I won't back down; I won't run or turn tail. There is a weakness in the way you posture and it will prove your Achilles heel.
Lila stood before Leon, her insides quivering but her face set hard. She had cried her tears, suffered her wounds, walked her hardest roads. There was a moment, just a fraction of a second, when his face showed puzzlement. It was all the encouragement she needed. "You will never lay a single hand on me again. You will never see me again." Leon held her gaze, his eyes every bit as hard as one who harbours only hatred. Lila felt the shockwave pass through her like it always did, yet this time she stood firm regardless with dry eyes and still hands.
Gigi dropped her eyes to the gravel, breathing deeply, and then raised them to meet Seb's glossy stare. "I've analyzed every angle. You know me, when have I ever got it wrong?"
Seb's face exploded into misery, tears falling unchecked, his eyes looking around for solutions that just didn't exist. "No, no." Gigi raised her hand to steady his face, to make him look right at her.
"My love, once they have me they'll stop looking for you, for the children. This is my choice. Sometimes there are no good moves."