COURAGE

I was recently visiting with a friend of mine who is a nurse. He is someone that I consider not only a friend, but also, a man who understands spirituality in the same sense that I do. He is introspective and often reflects upon his day through the use of meditation. On this particular day, I happened to notice an intriguing wall hanging placed near the entrance to his apartment. It featured a bright red Chinese symbol at the very top, and below that, in bold, capital letters was the word courage. Underneath was written: "Courage is not the absence of fear or despair, but the strength to conquer them."


Now I'm ever the stickler for a good quote and I was definitely drawn to this one. In our handy, paperless world of advanced technology, I whipped out my trusty BlackBerry and jotted the juicy nugget down for future reference. Who knew when I would need to sound smart or need to impress someone using a fancy quote? This one was simply too good to pass up.

So when I was first contacted by the Courage Campaign to assist with their upcoming events, the very same wall-hanging instantly popped into my mind. Eager to help, I knew that my chance to use the quote had appeared!

Courage, as I understand it, has many different meanings to many different people. It is wonderful that the word is so flexible and can be used to suit a variety of needs and purposes. Very few words summon the same emotional attachment as the word courage-- for it is by the very virtue of our attachment to it which gives it such great meaning. Its many definitions give it power. For some, courage is the ability to flight the battle. In this light, courage is seen to embrace all the valour of war and victory in conflict. For others, courage is simply about the ability to engage in the struggle, for it is the struggle that matters most, regardless of the outcome. And for others still, courage can be the power to admit defeat, to accept surrender and find peace in doing so. Whatever our association, it is plain to see that the word courage is as diverse as those who use it.

On July 25, 2008, I was in attendance at a social gathering hosted by the Public Service Pride network. These are monthly gatherings for queer civil servants and their friends that take place on the last Friday of every month. I was chatting with a colleague who was, at the time, a board member for the Capital Pride Festival. We were leisurely discussing, (and perhaps technically even gossiping) about the upcoming parade, when my telephone disrupted our lively conversation.

It was my mother calling, and so I politely excused myself to take her call.

I thought it strange that she would be calling so early on a Friday evening. She still lives in the small town in which I was raised, called Lark Harbour in Newfoundland. Even with the difference in time zones it was completely unusual for her to be ringing at that hour.

She greeted me with the same set of routine questions as always - wondering where I was and what I was up to. I told her I was out with friends at an event and asked her if everything was all right.

There was a bit of a pause, and then she told me she had been to a doctor's appointment that day. Thinking nothing of it, I asked how the appointment had gone. It was then that she informed me she had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. Feeling a flood of emotions wash over me, I stood silently clutching my BlackBerry. I understood what she had conveyed but I was confused as to what it all meant. This type of confusion quickly leads to fear--a fear that is amplified terribly by the awkward silence of such moments.

I knew what cancer was. I knew its implications and I understood the ramifications. What was baffling was how this could be happening to my Mother? Never before had the 'C' word hit so close to home for me.

Never before had I fully appreciated the gravity of the word. But now, it was my turn to experience the terrible initiation process that lurks behind the pithy phrase "cancer scare.”

Mothers have an uncanny ability to detect exactly how we are feeling at any given moment. Mom informed me that she was only calling to let me know about the situation and that I needn't be worried. She told me that although she would potentially have to undergo treatment, this was no cause for undue worry. But my fears would not allow me to fully trust her assurances.

Looking back, I realize now what an extraordinary person my Mother was, and is. Despite her own doubts and despair, she was able to connect with me and be there for me--even during one of her own darkest hours. As a result of this brave woman's ability to reassure me throughout one the scariest experiences of my life to date, I came to understand that courage is not the absence of fear, but indeed, a steadfast rallying cry by which we can come to face our fears and conquer them--together.