on being brave. or at least faking it.

Sometimes I'm really brave. Like, when I see a spider. Or when I have to make a doctor's appointment. Or when I have to floss.  I can muster up All Manner of Courage for those types of things. {Disclaimer: I tend to let out a war cry when dealing with spiders. But, you know, I deal with them. Spindly legs and all.}

But you know when I'm not really brave? When life happens. Which, you know, is pretty much daily. And lately, I haven't been feeling so brave. Yesterday? Not brave. Yesterday, I wanted to stay in bed, curled up under the covers, telling myself that I was Oh So Very Protected from the universe and all its muck. Today, I was able to get out from under the covers enough to go and get a shower, but I sort of wanted to bring the covers with me to work. You know, just for a little extra protection.

And tomorrow?

I have no idea. I think I might want the covers to be within arms' reach. You know, just in case.

I have this problem {well, one among many if we're being honest} in that I feel the weight of the world. Right on my shoulders. And in my heart. And all up in my head. And it overwhelms. the. eff. out of me. I just feel like life is so damn heavy, and I can't possibly carry any portion of it--not even a little slice--because it's just. too. much. My spindly arms--much like the legs of the spider I reference above--have no strength, no oomph!, no ability to possibly hold what the world is handing over.

The spinach I eat does nothing.

I am feeling like a namby pamby lately. A 'fraidy cat. A wuss. No courage. No bravery. No ability to look life square in the eyes and say, Look here, Buster. You need to be nice or I'm gonna bop you on the head.

No. I certainly do not have the ability to do that right now. And the thing is, there are things I need to address. Things I need to speak to. Things my heart is aching--oh, aching!--to get out from within its chambers. Because those things? Well, they are growing. And taking up room. Breathing room, if you will. Valuable, necessary air that helps me stay alive under the covers where I hide. 

I need courage. I need to be brave. And I just don't know how.  

What do you do when you need to be brave? Do you fake it? Do you muster it? Do you borrow someone else's? Do tell, dear friends. Share your bravery with me.

{I'm holding on as best I can. Or so the image above tells me.}