02.15.26
Dare do all
There's an old part to a Shakespeare play that goes, "Dare do all, that I might become a man." What takes courage to do and what does it mean?
Isaac
There’s a part to an old Shakespeare play that goes, “Dare do all, that I might become a man.”
I’ve been thinking about what it means to dare, to take a chance, to have courage. That call and response or taking that step.
Remember when we were kids? The dares flowed freely back then. Back when we perhaps had more naivety and the world felt wide and open, full of potential and exploration.
As kids we didn’t know it, but I think we played this simple game as a way to push out the boundaries of what we thought were possible, to get a feel of it for ourselves.
Sometimes the caller came from outside of us, that friend who would push us to do things we otherwise wouldn’t.
As we grew, sometimes that call came from within, as our desires and wishes for ourselves became important, as we chased the boundaries of our horizons.
A lot of it was to prove we belonged, some of it to affirm who we were or what we would become.
But when was the last time you took on a dare? When did you last come face to face with a moment that required courage?
Like many virtues, courage is one that we admire from afar but don’t often practice ourselves.
And somehow for a lot of us, as we age into adulthood, courage feels more like a playground pastime, a distant bedtime story, or a drama played out on screen on a Friday night, than something real we face.
Maybe it’s because it’s convenient to keep the status quo.
It’s probably because we’ve grown comfortable right where we are.
Often, it’s because we’re afraid, and we like to deny it.
Would it be different if we thought of the consequences of not taking courage?
That maybe without it, we lose ourselves… we don’t become the whole person we all long to be? Or live the true, full life we dream of?
For whatever reason, that Shakespeare quote stuck with me as a young man. I think it speaks to the idea that unless you dare and dare often, and to its fullest, you cannot be you.
So what if courage looked less like something that was passive or forgotten and more like something that you actively did?
What if we need to dust the sleep off of our eyes, the hazy lure of “everything is fine as they are,” and take a moment to stare into what would take courage to do.
To let it creep in inconveniently, like those youthful voices when we were young.
Courage might look like asking her out on a date,
quitting your job to do what you’ve been thinking about for years,
speaking up about something that’s unpopular in the next company meeting, or saying sorry to your wife or your kids,
maybe it’s revealing an addiction, admitting you were wrong in a crowded room,
becoming a parent and raising a child, or crawling forward in the darkest moment of your life,
choosing truth, making a stand…or believing something.
For me, in this season, it means moving my family halfway across the world, leaving the comforts of what’s familiar, loosening my grip on controlling everything, and stepping into the unknown.
You’ll know when it’s courage, because courage costs something.
It could be your pride,
looking like a fool,
your money, your stability,
your friends and family,
your belief… and at its fullest…your life.
The way I see it, taking courage feels like a losing deal either way you cut it. If you have it, it’ll probably cost you something. If you don’t, you lose yourself.
It’s a choice that has heft and weight to it. It’s inconvenient and uncomfortable.
But I wager that losing yourself will hollow you and spit you out, while the paid cost of courage gains you more freedom and does not disappoint on the other side.
Freedom because you step into more of who you are.
Freedom because you step into what is true.
And freedom because after taking that first step of courage, it floods your heart with more hope and life, despite what may lay dead behind you.
So, who will we become?
What dares are calling you as you get up from your slumber and really sit with yourself?
Between the tension, the choice is on the table.
I dare you to move.
If anything, do it for yourself. To become more of your self.
More life,