One of our biggest music festivals here in Australia is called ‘Byron Bay Bluesfest’. And if you can imagine soothing, crooning blues music (the type that speaks to your soul and settles in your heart) backdropped by the lush rainforest-cupped beauty of the Australian east coast, you’ll have nailed some of the essence and emotion wrapped up in this five-day event.
This year, one of my tribe was lucky enough to get a buskers spot during the festival.
Now, I could wax lyrical (pardon the pun) about her voice and talent, and how deserving she is of recognition. But that’s not what had my heart swollen with pride and my soul inspired to live full out. But we’ll get to that. Because first, we have to talk about something else …
Why creating – and sharing – requires courage
As I’m sure you know, because you are my type of people and you get this soul stuff, to put yourself on the line with any creative endeavour that showcases your talents is incredibly risky business.
As a species that inherently fears rejection and attempts to fit in at all costs, putting ourselves up for judgement about something that we have produced strikes at the heart of “Am I good enough?” Especially when that thing is the source of your passion and income rolled into one.
So, you put yourself and your thing out there. Sometimes the feedback is roof-raising and almost spiritual in the way it lifts you.
And sometimes, in the case of my musician friend, you get onto the stage and you feel like you crash and burn. I say “feel” because my friend’s perception of her performance was far more self-critical than warranted and other than poor sound in that section of the venue, no one would have known any different.
But our perception is all we have, isn’t it?
In that moment, it hurts. You put yourself on the line, holding the expectations of yourself in one hand and the expectations of the audience in the other.
Artists, writers, musicians, inventors, candle-stick makers … as a creator of anything, you know that weight, right?
And you also know that the fall can be so hard, even though the bruises are invisible. She packed up her microphone and guitar with slumped shoulders.
She willingly spoke to members of the audience who had approached her but the spark in her eye had been snuffed out. She couldn’t get out of the place quick enough.
And who could blame her? I don’t know anyone who wants to hang around when shame lumbers into the room, putting a dampener on the party.
But here’s the thing … in the words of Brene Brown, one of my favourite inspirations:
You can choose courage or you can choose comfort. But you cannot have both.
Courage is not present when life is going along easily. It doesn’t have to be. I don’t need courage to go to the shops to get some milk. I don’t need courage to get ready for work or vacuum the floor (motivation, yes, but not courage!)
Courage shows up when we know the risks but we show up anyway.
When we say to ourselves that living authentically is more important than staying comfortable. And courage is right there beside you when fear is loudest, rejection is nipping at your heels, and shame is ready to parade you naked to the world.
That’s where you’ll find courage.
[ctt template=”1″ link=”f5li6″ via=”yes” ]Courage is right there beside you when fear is loudest, rejection is nipping at your heels, and shame is ready to parade you naked to the world.[/ctt]
And that’s what I saw. I saw someone I love live courageously with all the discomfort that it sometimes entails.
I saw someone I love show up and give what she has to offer the world in all its beauty and raw humanness. And it made me love her more. And it made me want to live more, give more.
That’s the effect of courage. It becomes contagious.
So, you know that thing you have to give the world?
Please put it out there. Please take the step and trust that courage will show up.
Doing so is the only way that we live fully, richly and meaningfully, and doing so is the greatest gift you can give yourself and the people around you. Choose to live with courage and authenticity because that’s true beauty.
Here’s to the hard – but courageous – choices.
