Heart & Mind Contemplation #2 - Finding Courage

Jun 20, 2025

This is my second collection of poetry and prose excerpts, interspersed with musical suggestions, designed to facilitate a contemplative reflection on a theme. I’ll repeat the “approach” to using the material that I gave in my first “heart & mind contemplation” (on death). Of course, you may have your own approach that suits you best. I’d love to hear any thoughts or suggestions in the comments.

Contemplative Approach:

Give yourself a reasonable amount of time to “sink into” the material, preferably in a context where you’re unlikely to be interrupted – if you have that luxury. (Probably 20-30 minutes – though if you just want to sample or nibble at the material instead, please do! Maybe you’ll return for a slower approach.)
Get comfortable and take a few slow, deep breaths, consciously setting aside the more distracting thoughts of the day. If they’re persistent, envision putting those thoughts in a box and stowing them under your chair until you’re done.
I believe there is solid value in integrating words and music – to help give this a best chance at a “whole-brained” reflection. So I’d encourage interspersing the material rather than reading it all the way through and then listening to one or two songs as an afterthought. And please do not intellectually analyze the words! Read slowly and listen openly; notice what is responding inside of you.
My suggested goal is that you open yourself to welcoming some new perspective along the way – some subtle shift in your relation to the theme at hand that you can feel. Set aside any preconceived expectations of what this should look like for you. Be open to what comes. (Expectancy not expectations!)
Re-read or re-listen to any bits that affect you.

Contemplation: Finding Courage to Keep At It

Most of us have heard that courage is not the absence of fear, but the ability to do the hard thing, the risky thing, in the presence of our fear. Courage comes from sources as diverse as inspiration or desperation, empathic love or defiant anger. We can also contemplate our way into courage. I hope this offering of words and music can help.

Courageous heroes knew fear and weariness, and they kept going, often for the sake of outcomes they knew they would never see. Here’s Solomon Burke’s rendition of the Patty Griffin song, “Up to the Mountain” that uses language from MLK Jr.’s last speech before he was assassinated:

Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn't matter with me now, because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life; longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the Promised Land! I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land! So I'm happy tonight, I'm not worried about anything! I'm not fearing any man! Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord! - Martin Luther King, Jr., April 3, 1968

Of Course It Hurts

Of course it hurts when buds burst.
Otherwise why would spring hesitate?
Why would all our fervent longing
be bound in the frozen bitter haze?

…Of course it is hard when drops fall.
…Hard to be uncertain, afraid and divided,
hard to feel the deep pulling and calling,
yet sit there and just quiver -
hard to want to stay
and to want to fall.

Then, at the point of agony and when all is beyond help,
the tree's buds burst as if in jubilation,
then, when fear no longer exists,
the branch's drops tumble in a shimmer,
forgetting that they were afraid of the new,
forgetting that they were fearful of the journey -
feeling for a second their greatest security,
resting in the trust
that creates the world.
- Karin Boye, trans. from Swedish by Jenny Nunn

“We need a new kind of physical courage that will neither run rampant in violence nor require our assertion of egocentric power over other people. I propose a new form of courage of the body: the use of the body not for development of musclemen, but for the cultivation of sensitivity. This will mean the capacity to listen with the body. It will be, as Nietzsche remarked, a learning to think with the body. It will be a valuing of the body as the means of empathy with others, as expression of the self as a thing of beauty, and as a rich source of pleasure….

It is highly significant, and indeed almost a rule, that moral courage has its source in such identification through one’s own sensitivity with the suffering of one’s fellow human beings. I am tempted to call this “perceptual courage” because it depends on one’s capacity to perceive, to let one’s self see the suffering of other people. If we let ourselves experience the evil, we will be forced to do something about it. It is a truth, recognizable in all of us, that when we don’t want to become involved, when we don’t want to confront even the issue of whether or not we’ll come to the aid of someone who is being unjustly treated, we block off our perception, we blind ourselves to the world’s suffering, we cut off our empathy with the person needing help.”
– Rollo May in The Courage to Create (1975)

We must judge ourselves by a higher standard than effectiveness, the standard called faithfulness. Are we faithful to the community on which we depend, to doing what we can in response to its pressing needs? Are we faithful to the better angels of our nature and to what they call forth from us? Are we faithful to the eternal conversation of the human race, to speaking and listening in a way that takes us closer to truth? Are we faithful to the call of courage that summons us to witness to the common good, even against great odds? When faithfulness is our standard, we are more likely to sustain our engagement with tasks that will never end: doing justice, loving mercy, and calling the beloved community into being.
- Parker Palmer, Healing the Heart of Democracy

What part does risk taking play on the road to mastery? Risk taking is essential on that road. The aliveness of aliveness is trust. The religious word is faith, but that means courageous trust, trust in life, cosmic courage. But that courage implies taking risks. To live is to take risks. It’s absolutely central.
- Br. David Steindl-Rast

…Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
And out you stepped onto new ground,
Your eyes young again with energy and dream
A path of plenitude opening before you.

Though your destination is not clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is one with your life’s desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.
~John O’Donohue, from “For a New Beginning”

from “Blessing of Courage” by Jan Richardson

I cannot say
where it lives,
only that it comes
to the heart
that is open,
to the heart
that asks,
to the heart
that does not turn away…

But you will know it
by the strength
that rises from within you
to meet it,
by the release
of the knot
in the center of
your chest
that suddenly lets go.

You will recognize it
by how still
your fear becomes
as it loosens its grip,
perhaps never quite
leaving you,
but calmly turning
into joy
as you enter the life
that is finally
your own.

There is no courage without vulnerability. Courage requires the willingness to lean into uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure. - Brené Brown, Atlas of the Heart

We can do nothing substantial toward changing our course on the planet, a destructive one, without rousing ourselves, individual by individual, and bringing our small imperfect stones to the pile. I have learned other things: One is the futility of expecting anyone, including ourselves, to be perfect. People who go about seeking to change the world, to diminish suffering, to demonstrate any kind of enlightenment, are often as flawed as anyone else. Sometimes more so.

But it is the awareness of having faults, I think, and the knowledge that this links us to everyone on Earth, that opens us to courage and compassion. It occurs to me that often many of those I deeply love are flawed. They might actually have said or done some of the mean things I've felt, heard, read about or feared. But it is the struggle with the flaw, surprisingly endearing, and the going on anyhow, that I cherish about them. – Alice Walker

Now, if we can just rise up, we can scare away the dark: