Courageous…
Someone yesterday again said I was courageous for quitting my job and pursuing our dreams.
I thought, when was the first time in my life that I was “courageous”? Perhaps it was way back as a freshman in high school. I was on the football field, last game of the season, playing tight end, running full speed, cutting across the field, my arms extended as the ball was thrown to me. Instead I caught a linebacker’s helmet coming right between my arms and smashing into my face mask. My helmet, which was slightly too large, was spun sideways on my head. Who knew that was even possible? I was laying on the field, desperately trying to free my face from the sideways helmet. When free and eyes opened, I saw only red. Blood was flowing down my face, right over my eyes. I heard a coach saying, “Don’t worry, cuts on the head always bleed the worst.” Good, I felt better already!
That wasn’t the courageous part. I walked off the field that day and swore, “This is really stupid, I am sticking with basketball.” I attended a very small private school. Football was almost mandatory for every male… they needed the bodies. But I stayed true to my word. The next year, I did not play football. Took a huge amount of crap from my classmates, coaches and a few teachers. It was like they thought I was leading a revolt, giving permission for others not to play football. Which ended up to be somewhat true.
Some people view playing football as courageous. Modern warriors, gladiators of high school. I saw it courageous to refuse to play. Remember parents who would say, “If everyone jumped off a cliff, would you jump too?”
So which is courageous? To jump or refuse to jump?
And now, if everyone was working themselves to death to pad a bank account, would I do that too? Or is it more courageous to refuse?
Ok, I finally see it, I am courageous. And my wife is too.