You’ve seen it a million times. You scroll through social media and see news footage of a person who risked something to save someone or something else. The hero typically says, “Aw, it was nothing. I just wanted to help. I did what anyone would’ve done.”
It’s interesting. The heroes don’t appear falsely humble. Instead, they seem legitimately unable to see their efforts as anything unusual. They do not immediately comprehend that they put themselves at physical, emotional, and/or psychological risk when running toward danger, injury, or the unknown.
But we have learned over time that taking risks of any kind is vulnerable and brave all at once.
At a previous NANT Conference, I experienced a quiet type of courage that I’m certain would be labeled anything but brave by the person who stood before me. It was Saturday around 5 pm, the very end of the event. I was standing in front of the stage, talking one by one with a line of attendees.
A woman stepped toward me slowly and cautiously, her professional poster rolled up and tucked by her side. She told me that presenting a poster was entirely out of her comfort zone. She had never done such a thing and never imagined herself doing so in a group of 500 or so colleagues.
She leaned in and whispered, “I didn’t think anyone would even care about my poster or about my work. But they did! They were really interested! They asked so many questions.” Her eyes misted briefly, as did mine.
I told her that getting out of her comfort zone was contagious and that I doubted this was the last time I’d see her beyond the confines of its safety. She smiled, maybe nervously. But I know it to be true. When you step beyond what you once thought yourself capable of, you rarely return.
Courage is like that.
