Sharing Courage
I am shy. I’d really rather be in the back of the room, behind the curtain, or beside flowing water. If you have seen me on stage, you might find this hard to believe. When I am on a stage, I sing (off key), I dance (without a beat), I throw my head back and laugh (with my whole heart), and I live larger than life. I feel, when the light shines on me, like the best version of myself, but after the applause, when I am done, I want to run off the stage to a quiet corner to recuperate.
There is an interesting dichotomy to living life like this—bold yet quiet, scared yet fearless, a committed introvert and the most obnoxious extrovert. I know that—if I can button up my courage, tamp down my fears, and throw caution to the wind (pick your cliché)—life will send me energy, love, cool humans, and amazing experiences. But first, I have to step onto the stage.
For me, the stage is on social media (check out What’s Next with Karen Grosz on Facebook), in the books I’ve written, and when I am leading a team through strategic thinking or team-building experiences. The stage changes, but the butterflies do not. Your stage is probably similar. It is whenever and wherever you are doing whatever you are doing—and you know that people are watching. If being on that stage gives you the heebie-jeebies and you want more buttoned-up courage, here are some thoughts for you.
First, know this: People—at least the best people—are never mean. I have never been harassed on any social media platform. This is probably because I look like a grandma (and everyone is nice to grandma), and I have never (at least not purposefully) said a negative thing to anyone. Sure, there are people who do not like what I do. One man calls quite often to tell me to turn down the cheer, but he just keeps watching. Others are not entertained by my style of you-can-do-it energy, and that’s just fine. They are not my people.
Second: You will survive any negatives that come your way. The first time I did a big inspirational speech, I could feel in every fiber of my being that I had nailed it. I felt the audience laugh, cry, and cheer with me, and I was elated. As we reviewed the hundreds of evaluations, they were all glowing—well, all but one. That one was written in red Sharpie, across the entire page, all in capitals: KAREN GROSZ IS NOT INSPIRATIONAL. I crumpled. One bad review, from a woman who wanted that speaking slot (we knew who wrote it), tore me down. So, I got back on the horse and tried to ride again. That time, I got booed off the stage when I suggested to a group of businesswomen that they stop playing FarmVille and work on their business instead.
So… I got back on the horse and tried again. Today, my keynotes often end with a standing ovation. There may be a trick to getting this ending, but I survived the worst days in order to thrive in the best days.
Third: It’s the people in your group that matter—the ones you are supporting, being supported by, or hoping to inspire. They are your courage. They will cheer you, laugh with you, and, most importantly, appreciate you. Your courage gets to be their courage, and their courage gets to be your courage. Step on the stage, and they will applaud. Try something new, and they will try it with you. It’s scary to be all alone, but it is empowering to be part of a group. You don’t even have to be part of the group forever. You can swing in for ten minutes, one event, or the length of a season. Being part of the group is not being part of a family—unless you’re mafia, and I don’t think the mafia is reading this column, so you are safe.
What I want you to know today is that the world is big. It is beautiful. It is full of possibility and of moments that you will never, ever forget. You just have to try whatever it is you want to try.
I’ve been living this recently. If you know my story, you know I became me because of my journey with a direct sales company. But when I left—with a broken heart—I said I would never do that again. Faithfully, I stuck to that promise until a group of people came to me and said, with words and actions that showed me I could trust them, that I could—and should—live that life again. They shared their courage so I could use their product to build up more people while staying true to who I am now: a shy, team-building, traveling author with more hiking boots than stilettos.
At a recent conference for that company, there were people dancing on stage during a break—graceful moves without self-conscious tremors, and smiles as big as the sun. I wanted that. But I was scared. I do not move like a dancer. I move like a woman with a catch in her hip and a missing beat. So, I decided to borrow courage and share courage. I joyfully started inviting people to the stage with me. I grabbed their hands, begged, and cajoled—which I really didn’t have to do very hard, because, if you are having a good time, people want to follow you. We arrived on the stage, and everyone found their spot and their rhythm, and the people on the stage made room for us—while also recognizing that some of us (me) didn’t know any of the steps. So, they showed me.
They showed me.
That is the beauty of shared courage. There is plenty to go around, and while you are sharing yours, someone will lend you theirs. All you have to do is ask. All you have to do is know that—by stepping into the group and onto the stage, by buttoning up your courage and saying, “Ah, what the hell”—life is going to send you results you never dreamed you could have.
Borrow some courage. Lend some if you have it to give. Be part of a group, or go it alone—as I often do. It’s all going to be just fine. I promise.
