"Grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change; Courage to change the things I can; And wisdom to know the difference"
This simple yet potent Serenity Prayer was adopted by Alcoholics Anonymous in the 1950s as part of their recovery programme. We all strive to deepen our capacity for resilience. In this edition, I share my reflections on how bravery and courage shape resilience and how reconnecting with the heart can restore mental clarity, strength and presence in the most difficult moments.
Bravery and courage
According to the Etymology Dictionary online, bravery comes from 'bravus' which is Latin for fierce or savage. Courage stems from 'cor', which means heart. Linguistic cousins - related but different.
For example, we might be brave enough to speak in public, but not courageous enough to be vulnerable in our closest relationships. We might not be brave enough to go skydiving, but we have the courage to work with uncertainty. Sometimes we need to be both brave and courageous. When taking on a new venture, you need to have courage to work outside of your comfort zone, as well as be brave enough to make the leap. In being brave, a real danger doesn't necessarily have to be present, but it requires boldness. Sometimes, you just have to pick up the phone to that client/colleague, take the medical test. 'Just do it' like Nike says. Bravery is a bold action, an external strength. Courage is quiet endurance - an internal strength.
Understanding this distinction between courage and bravery has helped me make sense of my own life experiences. My earliest memory of bravery was during the Gulf War. I was about 8/9, and my family lived in Bahrain. There were times when my brother and I were trusted to stay safe at home alone until my parents returned from work/errands. When the air raid sirens went off, I grabbed the phone and my brother and hid in our bedroom. I had no idea what I was doing, or why, but I knew I had to act. Bravery in that moment was a physical instinct, doing what was needed to survive.
My earliest memory of courage is different. At 16, I left Bahrain to study and work in the UK with the eagerness and excitement any teenager would have to leave home at that age. It's strange how I don't recall being afraid. I had to make new friends, understand a new culture, get good grades, find a couple of part-time jobs and achieve my aspirations to become a lawyer. Courage came in different shapes and sizes during this period. Trying new things, facing rejection, making mistakes, speaking up, sticking to my values. I was taking a chance on myself (and so were my parents), so courage meant believing I could rise to it.
When my son confronted his own battle with cancer, courage and bravery took the form of a smile I wore like armour. It became something inaccessible, something I had to fake at times - like smiling on the rollercoasters he wanted to go on when he was little and nodding at how much fun they were. This was a different 2+ year rollercoaster though where resilience alone was not enough. It required boldness to show up to difficult things and courage to endure them.
From icebox to rhythm - building the muscle of resilience
Reflecting on these experiences has taught me that resilience is built like a muscle, through tension, release and repetition. I didn't know it then, but I was training my inner strength. I very vividly recall how I drew on my most reliable resource during the hardest of times - my breath. I would take a deep breath in, hold it for a few seconds and then simply breathed out. No magic to it and yet so much magic in it!
That breath wasn't just calming - it was regulating my heart rhythm. Studies in neurocardiology show that slow, intentional breathing creates heart rhythm coherence, which in turn sends calming signals to the brain. This heart-brain synchrony is a physiological foundation for resilience.
There was a time when I felt like there was an icebox where my heart used to be. It was the result of broken trust, from caring too much and not receiving it in return. So, I protected it with armour, designed from a place of fear and scarcity. I chose safety over connection, control over courage. But resilience isn't built with a cold, armoured, detached heart. It is built in the breath that softens the chest and steadies the mind. When the heart finds its rhythm, the mind follows.
An experiment for you
We live so much in our heads, and we are ready to follow our gut, but we have lost touch with what our heart might be telling us. Our heart is where we hold what truly matters to us and our values. It's where you find the courage to be disliked, to sit with uncertainty, to ask for help, to have difficult conversations, to lead with your values even when it is inconvenient or costly. My invitation to you this month is to experiment with re-connecting with your heart. This is a practice that has deeply helped me and held me through challenges.
- Breathe in for the count of 4 and exhale for 8.
- Place your hand over your heart and notice any physical sensations/feelings that arise. This might feel weird at first and if you don't feel anything, that's OK. My coach mentor/teacher often reminds us that too is data!
- Bring to mind someone or something that you appreciate. Continue to breathe slowly and notice any shifts in sensations or feelings.
- When you're ready, gently return your breath to its natural rhythm. You might notice a sense of ease or spaciousness within you. Acknowledge your courage to pause, listen and show up for yourself.
- Carry this sense of presence into your day.
So that's where courage begins - not in your head, in your chest. Remind yourself that your heart is still there and it's wiser than you think. When your heart is steady, your mind can be too.
Have a go and let me know what you discover.
