One of my favorite definitions of courage is this: courage is not the absence of fear—it is action despite fear.
Fear itself is not a weakness. It’s a feature. Our brain’s primary job is survival—to keep us alive and safe. Whenever it detects something uncertain, unfamiliar, or potentially risky, it automatically hits the brakes. It urges us to stop, retreat, and return to what is known and predictable.
From an evolutionary perspective, this makes perfect sense. But from a growth perspective, it creates a problem.
Because we know—deep down—that meaningful progress in life requires making choices. And more often than not, those choices must be made without complete certainty or all the information. One of the most common reasons people stay stuck is the fear of getting it wrong.
Our brains are wired to prevent pain. They are risk-averse and consequence-focused. When faced with a decision that could disrupt stability, the mind often jumps straight to worst-case scenarios: losing everything, embarrassing ourselves, disappointing others, or confirming a long-held fear that we’re not good enough. This mental spiral isn’t wisdom—it’s protection. Your brain is trying to keep you in a world that feels controllable, even when your logical mind knows that staying put is costing you something.
There’s a quote often attributed to Wayne Gretzky that captures this well:
“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”
If we want to experience something we’ve never had before, we have to be willing to do something we’ve never done before.
I once heard a speaker lead a simple but powerful exercise. He asked people to write down everything they currently had in their lives—their job, income, relationships, lifestyle, routines, and sense of security. Then, on the other side of the page, he asked them to write down everything they wished they had. The bigger and more ambitious, the better: meaningful work, creative freedom, purpose-driven impact, flexibility, fulfillment.
Afterward, he had us draw a circle around the first list. He explained that this circle represents our comfort zone. Every decision we’ve made so far has kept us within that boundary.
The second list—the life we long for—exists outside that circle.
That alone explains why we don’t already have the things we desire. Growth requires stepping beyond what is familiar. It requires new choices, new behaviors, and new risks. And by definition, that will feel uncomfortable.
What often gets missed, though, is that discomfort feels more dangerous than it actually is. Sometimes it isn’t real risk we’re responding to—it’s novelty. The unfamiliar can trick our brain into believing something is far scarier than it truly is.
A Common Real-Life Example
Consider someone who is currently in a job that is “safe.” It pays the bills. It offers predictability. On paper, it looks like a good situation. But internally, this person feels disengaged. There’s a persistent sense of boredom, restlessness, or quiet dissatisfaction. They’ve always dreamed of doing something more aligned with their passions—something creative, meaningful, or impactful—but they’re afraid to even think about it too much.
Why?
Because the moment they do, fear shows up:
- What if I can’t make enough money?
- What if I fail and regret leaving stability?
- What if I’m not actually good at the thing I love?
- What if I disappoint my family or lose respect?
So instead of exploring the dream, they suppress it. They tell themselves, “This is just how life is,” or “I should be grateful,” or “Now isn’t the right time.” Over time, the dream doesn’t disappear—it just goes quiet. And with it, so does a sense of aliveness.
Here’s the reframe: courage doesn’t mean quitting your job tomorrow or making a reckless leap. Courage might simply mean allowing yourself to think honestly about what you want. It might mean researching possibilities, having a conversation with someone you trust, taking a class, or experimenting with a small side project.
This is where taking small steps becomes powerful. Big life changes are rarely made in a single moment. They’re built through manageable, intentional actions that slowly expand our comfort zone.
Another important truth is this: life was never meant to be navigated alone. Courage grows in community. Having trusted people who can encourage you, challenge catastrophic thinking, and remind you of your strengths can significantly increase your capacity to face fear.
And if things don’t go perfectly? That doesn’t mean you’ve ruined your life.
In many cases, you get to learn—and try again.
The more accurate story isn’t that getting it wrong will destroy you. It’s that your brain is trying to protect you from the pain of failure. But pain itself isn’t what kills dreams. The belief that pain is unbearable or permanent—that’s the real trap.
The cost of creating a life aligned with your values is learning from mistakes and adjusting as you go.
Thomas Edison captured this mindset when he said, “I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” That posture—curiosity over fear, learning over perfection—is what fuels perseverance.
Courage isn’t about certainty.
It’s about choosing movement over paralysis.
And often, it’s the willingness to take one honest step outside the comfort zone that changes everything.
