I think people think I’m brave.
I guess I get it. To think I could go to the Olympics, or start a nonprofit, or publish books—kind of audacious on paper. But I’d actually never say I’ve been very brave.
Let me explain.
In a podcast interview, designer Debbie Millman attributed her success to the fact that she’s always had just “one notch more optimism than shame.” Her perspective suddenly helped me understand my relationship to bravery in a new light.
All I’ve had—at any given juncture—is simply one notch more courage than doubt. ONE little notch.
We’re talking barely bravery. Bitsy bravery. By-the-skin-of-my-teeth bravery. Bashful bravery. Just enough bravery to do the next thing. And then the next. And the next.
My accomplishments—the things that are so identifying that they’ve basically become my job title—are the result of a million different barely-brave things. All of the microsteps that I took to achieve them, have been just that: steps. A bunch of barely-brave steps.
(Zero leaps.)
So, really. I’m not nearly as brave as it might seem.
We all know that a resume tells only the rosy version of one’s professional life, and that social media is a highlight reel.
Your resume certainly doesn't report the promotion you didn’t get, and I don’t post on Instagram about the toddler barf I just scraped out of my carpet. We all know that the image we hold out for the world to see, is never the whole picture. Not even close.
Sometimes people criticize social media because people only show the good stuff. I actually don’t think that’s an egregious offense. The greater harm lies not in the omission of life’s unbecoming moments, but the omission of what goes into the great ones.
Yes, the peak moments shared on social media omit failures and missteps, but they also leave out the time and effort that went into them. The details of the effort or the journey are rarely divulged.
In a culture where achievement is exalted and comparison is king, we must remember that the ugly moments are left out, but just as importantly: so are all the little things that go into creating memorable results.
The good things in life, the big things in life, are precious, relatively rare, and usually hard-earned. Life’s greatest things are often the sum of the time and effort behind them.
The bulk of our time on earth isn’t spent on top of peaks, but rather in the small, dirt-under-our-fingernails steps we take up the side of our own personal mountainsides.
That means, at any given moment, most of us are in the process of taking small, barely-brave steps up some very steep slopes. It’s often unglamorous, arduous, and frankly monotonous.
Much like the pristine personas that people project on social media, my accomplishments are not nearly as grandiose as the appear. They’re a vestige of a million little actions. For me: a million different junctures when I had ONE notch more bravery than doubt. ONE notch more belief than shame. ONE notch more hope than fear.
So be careful not to aggrandize what I, or anyone else, has done. Resist labeling anyone more “lucky,” “brave,” or even more “hard-working” than you.
Chances are, what you admire is really just a collection of positive actions that you never got to see. And maybe each juncture was navigated not with the bold conviction you’ve been conditioned to believe––but with hardly enough courage to proceed.
Because that’s all it really takes.
We can all dig down. Find that little bump. Eke out that one little notch where bravery beats doubt. It’s attainable. I promise.
Even if it’s just barely.