adjective–easily broken, shattered, or damaged; delicate; brittle; or frail
noun–the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear, bravery
This week I own my own fragile courage. Normally a word like fragile makes me balk because it implies weakness or damage. And as a survivor and a person who eschews any characterization that even hints at being a victim, words like that make my skin crawl. But not this week…this week I embrace both my fragility and my courage.
I have no doubt that I have courage. I have survive great loss, deep hurt, and bitter betrayal. And yet it is a rare day that I don’t laugh or smile. I have withstood shame and failure and have retained lightness of heart and the ability to show compassion.
But I have struggled with my own fragility. I have been on my own for most of my life…even when by definition I was not “alone”…I was truly ALONE. My independence is very hard to marry with my fragility or the ease with which I could be broken. It feels like something I have no control over..because I don’t.
I’ve noticed that while I have the courage to begin to make friends…I am fragile enough that one person’s hateful statement about something important to me widens one of the cracks in the fragile vessel that carries my heart.
I can receive accolades and praise one day and then be crushed by feeling discarded the next.
But I keep learning. I keep listening to those who love me, to the Sophia of God, and to my own intuition. And what I hear is a strong and necessary message.
Courage without fragility would make me a bully of epic proportions.
Fragility without courage would make me a terrified, timid, fear-driven mouse who never took a single change and was still shattered.
Instead I am fragility courageous. I am a blend of weak and strong. I am human and divine. I am terrified and unintimidated. I am independent and need reassurance.
I am Leah.