Why the Edge of Fear Is Where True Courage Is Born
Why facing fear head-on isn’t about being fearless—but about growing through every trembling step.
Shaking.
Trembling.
I've been there.
I've been there so many times. Standing on the brink of something new, something daunting, wondering how I'll muster the courage to take the next step.
How can I say this? How can I do this?
And then my mind begins its barrage of perfectly timed blows, each one designed to keep me stuck in place. It took me a long time to realize that if I just leaned into those thoughts, let them run their course without resistance, I could survive the onslaught. But that's a story for another day.
Today is about trusting your path...
Even if you're scared to death.
There's a leap of faith we all must take at some point. Imagine, for a moment, standing at the edge of a cliff, preparing to dive into the waters below. You're there because you want to be; you know you're going to jump—that's why you climbed all the way up. But there's that moment of panic. It's not really about the water or even the height. It's about that split second after you leap, when gravity takes hold and you're utterly out of control.
It's that moment...of surrender.
You can't stop the momentum.
You can't halt the fall.
You're just going and it ends when it ends.
In many ways, taking a leap of faith mirrors this experience. You step off the solid ground of the familiar and, for a moment, you're suspended in uncertainty. You're navigating the unknown, a place without context or prior experience, and that can be terrifying. The mind screams for reassurance, for something to grasp onto, yelling, "What do I do next?!"
But amid that panic, something remarkable happens. You begin to surrender to the journey. Somewhere in that freefall, you accept the reality of your situation. You start to find a strange comfort in the discomfort, a peace in the lack of control. You're falling, yes—but you're also flying.
My feet have trembled many times throughout my life.
I've stepped into moments I didn't think I was ready for. I've faced people who once wounded me deeply—perhaps one of the scariest confrontations we endure. I've stared my own demons in the eye, challenging them in a battle for my soul. These moments have left me shaking, my entire being uneasy with uncertainty and fear.
But here's what I've learned: As you stand there trembling, you're not weakening; you're strengthening. You're shaking into a body, a spirit, that can hold this new reality. We don't tremble when the ordinary happens. We shake when we're on the cusp of transformation, when we're encountering something that requires us to expand beyond our current selves.
A long time ago, when I hit rock bottom, I returned to school a complete mess. I hadn't eaten or slept properly in weeks. Anxiety clung to me like a shadow. Every day, as I walked to class, I'd pop in my headphones and listen to the same song on repeat:
I'm not afraid…to take a stand.
There was a war inside me—a battle between hope and darkness. I shook with every step, sometimes so violently it felt like my very soul was quivering. But I kept walking. I kept moving forward. Those lyrics became an anthem, echoes of a resilience I wasn't sure I possessed but desperately wanted to believe in.
And eventually, the days grew a little less dark. The weight began to lift, not because some external force rescued me, but because I walked through the storm and found myself still standing on the other side. I had to tread through the darkest parts of my life to realize there wasn't a light at the end of the tunnel—I was the light within it.
There was no escaping myself.
No external fix or addition was going to make everything better.
I had to be present in my pain, to walk through it, and continue on my path despite the chaos around me. By doing that and taking care of myself in the smallest ways, I found that brighter days weren't just possible—they were inevitable.
There will always be a fear of what might happen in the future. The unknown is a vast and often intimidating idea. But if you don't walk your path today, you'll never discover what's waiting for you beyond that fear.
You won't see your potential unfold if you don't begin to chase it.
It's not going to work out every time, and that's okay. That's the point, really. It's not about guaranteed outcomes or avoiding failure. It's about learning to step into the great mystery of life with confidence, with a curiosity that rivals a child's adventurous heart.
It's about discovering "what is."
And letting that be just perfect in whatever way it shows up.
So even if your feet shall tremble, go forward. Embrace the shaking as a sign that you're alive, that you're growing, that you're about to step into something bigger than you've ever known. Trust that the path will unfold in front of you every single step you take.
Because in the end, it's not about conquering fear—it's about walking alongside it, acknowledging its presence, and continuing on your journey regardless.
It's about finding joy and freedom in the uncertainty.
It's about living fully, deeply, and authentically.
And that's a path worth walking.
Here’s how you can integrate this:
Intention: To embrace fear as a natural part of growth and use it as a guide toward transformation.
Reflection: Think of a moment in your life when fear held you back. What could have changed if you had chosen to step forward despite the fear? What does it mean for you to "walk alongside" your fear?
Practice: This week, identify one area of your life where fear has been keeping you stuck. Take a small, tangible step toward it. It could be making a phone call, starting a project, or having a conversation you’ve been avoiding. Acknowledge the fear, but don’t let it stop you. Afterward, reflect on how the action shifted your perspective and how you felt afterward.
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Thank you for being here,
—Evan
My goodness.. I don't even have words to explain how I feel as I read this.. its so true for me right now on so many levels I am shivering, I am shaking, but I know I can't go back.. and forward seems so scary and unknown.. but there is a tingle, a glimmer that just whispers and tells me to keep going..
Right on time