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                            |  | The Heart and Soul
                              of Courageby Katherine Martin
 |  "Celebrating Women of Courage and Vision" is the theme of Women’s History Month, March 2001.
 For much of my life, I never thought about whether I
                        was courageous. Maybe more honestly, I didn’t think I
                        was. As first a child and then a young woman, I admired
                        it when I saw it in others or heard about it or read
                        about it. Don’t get me wrong, I would have my moments
                        of chutzpah. But courage. That’s a big word. Powerful.
                        Intimidating. It's a word for heroes, for those who
                        brave the impossible, who live bigger than life. 
 Armed with my shallow definition and traveling as a
                        self-described "courage voyeur," I set out to
                        write Women of Courage, the first of my series of
                        books about people who dare. I began looking for courage
                        "warriors," wanting to vicariously feel that
                        rush of victory from challenges conquered against all
                        odds. I wanted to know what it was like to slay the
                        dragon. I interviewed women like Anita Roddick, the fiery
                        founder of The Body Shop, who makes a habit of stirring
                        up controversy in the name of human rights and
                        environmental preservation. And Barbara Trent, who
                        risked her life to make her Academy-award winning
                        documentary about what really happened during the U.S.
                        invasion of Panama. And Heather O’Brien who, at age
                        nineteen, went alone into Cambodian refugee camps to
                        bring out stories and was captured by the Khmer Rouge. Listening to these women, I felt a rush of empowered
                        dignity. This is who we can be, what we can do.
                        Internally, I triumphed with them. Yes! If they can go
                        so boldly, take a stand so bravely, then I too can stand
                        up, maybe not risking my life, but risking being more
                        than I am now. Over the months that followed, I interviewed bold and
                        defiant women whose triumphs have rippled across our
                        culture, like Sarah Weddington, who was twenty-six years
                        old when she argued Roe vs. Wade before the U.S.
                        Supreme Court. Like Senator Patty Murray, who was told
                        by a legislator that her voice didn’t count because
                        she was "just a mom in running shoes" and rose
                        up to win a bid for the U.S. Senate. Like Judy Chicago,
                        who boldly stood the art world on its head and Dawn
                        Steel, the first woman to head a major motion picture
                        company. When I asked Polar explorer Ann Bancroft about
                        courage, she obliged me with a thrilling story about
                        taking the first all-women’s expedition to the South
                        Pole, but then said, "If I’m truthful, though, I
                        have to say that wasn’t my moment of courage." What
                        on earth? "Let me tell you about being dyslexic
                        …" she began, telling me about how she had taken
                        a stand with an intimidating college counselor who was
                        trying to talk her out of getting a teaching credential
                        because her grades were poor. "Give it up,"
                        said the counselor, "Get your B.A., go on with your
                        life, be happy." To Ann, it was her defining moment
                        of courage, standing up to her advisor and saying,
                        "You don’t understand, that B.A. means nothing to
                        me if I can’t teach." As difficult as it was for
                        her, she prevailed in making her dream real by becoming
                        a teacher. Later, she said, "in the bitter cold at
                        the North Pole, I had the distinct thought, This is
                        not worse than school. When I was having a bad day
                        on the Arctic ice, that’s what I would dredge up in my
                        mind to keep me going: School was harder." Courage has many faces and we lose much when we
                        dismiss it in ourselves, thinking we don't measure up to
                        the narrow definition of "conventional"
                        courage. "The way our culture is defining courage
                        is so ridiculous," says Mary Pipher, author of the
                        bestselling Reviving Ophelia about adolescent
                        girls and The Shelter of Each Other about
                        families. "Courage has become Raiders of the
                        Lost Ark, or riding in spaceships, killing people,
                        taking enormous physical risks. To me, the kind of
                        courage that’s really interesting is someone whose
                        spouse has Alzheimer’s and yet manages to wake up
                        every morning and be cheerful with that person and
                        respectful of that person and find things to enjoy even
                        though their day is very, very difficult. That kind of
                        courage is really undervalued in our culture. We need to
                        redefine our dialogue about courage." And that’s where my study took me. To a new
                        dialogue about courage. I spoke with Dana Reeve, who
                        talked about how life shifted cataclysmically after her
                        husband, Christopher was paralyzed in a riding accident.
                        And Marianne Williamson, who persevered in the face of
                        intense public scrutiny. And psychiatrist Dr. Judith
                        Orloff who grew up in fear and confusion as a result of
                        being psychic. And Barbara Brennan who left her life as
                        a NASA scientist to begin an internal exploration that
                        led her to create a revolutionary form of spiritual
                        medicine. And Salle Redfield, who spoke intimately about
                        her journey from "delicate southern magnolia
                        blossom" to empowered woman. And then, I interviewed Isabel Allende. I had no idea
                        it would be the pivot point of my study. Isabel was
                        raised in Chile, a deeply patriarchal society, and as a
                        young woman was on the vanguard of a risky feminist
                        movement, becoming a recognized journalist and
                        television personality. And yet, when we sank into her
                        big white couch and I let the word "courage"
                        pass my lips, she, who had just sat down, got right back
                        up, saying "Yes, but I’m not a very courageous
                        person." And she walked across the room and briefly
                        busied herself at her desk. I waited for her to return,
                        wondering how a woman who had risked her life over and
                        over helping strangers reach safe houses and embassies
                        following the military coup that left her father’s
                        cousin, Salvador Allende, brutally murdered and her
                        country in the throes of unspeakable atrocities - how
                        could it be that this woman would say, "Yes but I’m
                        not a very courageous person"? Isabel’s is a life of courage. Not a moment
                        or an event, not a single strike but a series of events,
                        an accumulation of dared moments. You see it etched in
                        her discipline, her candor, her vulnerability, and yet
                        her unassailable confidence. It comes from the courage
                        to constantly stretch into places demanding an
                        uncompromised presence. Courage is magnificent in this
                        way. It changes us - gives us presence, makes us humble.
                        I saw it in woman after woman. Talking with Isabel, I
                        was struck by how emotionally available and authentic
                        she remained in the ever more glaring light of fame.
                        Courageous people tend to be this way, as though they
                        have no time for pretense. "If you ask me what has
                        been the most difficult moment in my life," Isabel
                        said, "the moment that has required the most
                        strength and courage, I would say it was the illness and
                        death of my daughter, Paula." In that moment, I saw
                        that courage had a far deeper reach than I had ever
                        imagined. "So many of the models of courage we've had,
                        ones that are still taught to boys and girls, are about
                        going out to slay the dragon, to kill," says Riane
                        Eisler. "It's a courage that's born out of fear,
                        anger, and hate. But there's this other kind of courage.
                        It’s the courage to risk your life, not in war, not in
                        battle, not out of fear . . . but out of love and a
                        sense of injustice that has to be challenged. It takes
                        far more courage to challenge unjust authority without
                        violence than it takes to kill all the monsters in all
                        the stories told to children about the meaning of
                        bravery." Riane had the audacity and the guts – the courage -
                        to challenge the gods of history and culture in her
                        groundbreaking book The Chalice and the Blade.
                        Her audacity to take on "our most hallowed and
                        sanctified norms" is borne out of her love for
                        humanity and her flagless will to right injustices
                        flowing from the far and near past. Challenging tradition can be risky, as Rita Dove
                        learned when she became the youngest and first black
                        Poet Laureate. "At first, I thought I hadn’t done
                        anything courageous in my life," she said.
                        "But then, I realized that so many women do things
                        that I view as brave without consciously setting out to
                        be courageous. It made me rethink what I had asked of
                        myself as Poet Laureate, the places and times when I had
                        held my breath and jumped. Courage has nothing to do
                        with our determination to be great. It has to do with
                        what we decide in that moment when we are called upon to
                        be more." Often, in the telling of their stories, people tap
                        into a part of themselves they’ve ignored and are
                        moved to tears. "It made me really uncomfortable,
                        ," said one, "because it brought up all this
                        unfinished business with my family and I had to go back
                        to them and work out some things that we hadn’t
                        resolve." Another said, "It was more arduous
                        and painful than I expected. Traveling back, if only in
                        my mind, was like scraping off layers from a nightmare I
                        wasn’t eager to revisit. This story is entirely true
                        which, to me, is what makes it so scary." Often the
                        tears come when we acknowledge our goodness, our
                        strength, and the gift we provide others when we live
                        our lives with courage. I am honored that people speak so vulnerably and
                        openly with me and my life is bigger and broader for
                        being immersed in their lives. I haven’t scaled any
                        mountains. I haven’t slain any dragons. But I honor
                        myself more as a woman. I am more authentic. I am
                        willing to be strong, to seek out places where I’m
                        nervous or afraid and purposefully go there, knowing how
                        much I gain by so doing, not only for myself but for my
                        husband, my son, those around me. I am finding my true
                        voice, less afraid to make mistakes, more eager to see
                        what I’m made of, inspired to seek new challenge and
                        to not settle for mediocrity. In the end, courage can be a fragile, vulnerable
                        thing, a quiet moment. It can be a deep look into our
                        souls, a stillness with our divinity. It can be found in
                        the exhalation of love. In the speaking of truth. In
                        forgiving and the making of peace. It is not only about
                        climbing unscaleable mountains, crossing unfordable
                        rivers, flying to unreasonable heights. Even in the most
                        bold and daring acts, courage is a matter of the heart.
                        And, more than anything, this work brings me home to my
                        heart and home to myself as a woman. I continue to
                        explore the heart, the mind, and the spirit of courage
                        and to honor its many faces. To look into the eyes of
                        the very soul of courage reminds us of who we are in all
                        our magnificence. And in remembering, we become more. © Copyright 2001 Katherine Martin. 
  Katherine Martin is a champion of the human spirit. She has been a                   magazine writer and editor, award winning screenwriter, author of                   two critically acclaimed books and is presently a columnist for
                        women.com.
                    For the past six years, Katherine has immersed herself in the rich                   tapestry of human courage. Interviewing hundreds of people from                   all walks of life, Katherine has been inspired and moved by her                   discoveries. Women of Courage is the first in the People Who Dare                   Series.                    Katherine speaks across the country, has produced sold out                   theatrical performances of her work and is producing stories for                   television. Her message inspires us all - that courage is a matter of                   the heart. BACK
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