WHAT IS THE BRAVEST THING?
Right, that little nap didn’t help things today either. I don’t know whether it’s just me or…I don’t remember experiences like hope and bravery and fear very well.
Sounds odd eh? I mean, I don’t recall emotion very well. It seems that everyday I run the full gamut of emotions from minute to minute. I mean, every situation has me afraid, and then brave, and then either vanquished or victorious, indulgent or remorseful, onto the next.
I’m a very internal person (read mad-as-a-hatter), so my world seems is a lot more dangerous than normal people and I have to be a hero all the time.
The bravest thing I do is face myself.
I’m a liar. I lie everyday. Honestly. My teachers said I had a wild imagination, and my Professors read every single research paper that came out of my laboratory.
I’m a coward. I can’t bear to watch Mixed Martial Arts (even though, I must admit I like their feet!),
…it emasculates me. I need my high-heels and scarf to feel properly safe.
My Dad was always telling me to ‘…be a man.’ I hated him for it.
And then he died.
I was watching something on rescue workers today (I wrote a poem; earthquake) these are people who I think are brave.
On the t.v. the other night, I caught a story from Brisbane about a fourteen year-old boy, who when they came to rescue him, insisted that they rescue his nine year-old brother first. When they came back, he had died. He was brave.
Oh! I know! I’ve apologised for being drunk on the job once. That was brave. I was fired.
I hide behind a thin veneer of intelligence, a cocky display of bravado to make it through the day. Actually, I’m a grown man who’s nothing more than a puppy, a frightened little hoax.
I’ll tell you the bravest thing I’ve ever done.
Imagine if you will, a smokey English Pub, down by the river. Imagine a black couple, father and son, huddled over dinner in the corner by the bar. That’s when I told him I was Gay. Potatos flew.
So, no. I’m not brave, but I recognise bravery everyday. I depend on it. Who else would change a tire for a damsel in distress?
I think it is brave to apologise, especially to those you love.
I think it is brave to go out and socialise even when you feel inadequate.
I think it is brave that children cry so easily.
We all need our leaders to be brave, to tell us that despite the odds, we shall prevail, and baring that, we can hide can hide in their garage.
I think it is brave when we reach out despite being certain that we’re not good enough.
I think the world is full of brave people trying to make the most out of the only life they’ve got.
My Father married a Professor, had four Kids and worked for the U.N.
I think, he was brave.
-visit my poetry blog –Tomatos, Oranges & Other Fruit –
♦photos – 123rf.com♦