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The concepts of inspiration and heroism have always been ambiguous to me. Growing up I was frequently asked, “Who is your biggest hero?” and “Who inspires you?” Truth is, I never had a circle. I answered the way they expected me to: naming band members, significant figures in history, my dad, but I never understood the question. To aid me, I found that the dictionary definition of a hero is “a person who is admired or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities.” By that denotation, I suppose most people I interact with on a daily basis could be considered heroes.
Evolving from a tiny, newborn baby to an angst-ridden, young adult about to be thrust into the mature world, my list of heroes and role models has shrunk drastically. In my pre-teen days, I would have considered every band member who satisfied my urge of standing up to my educational and familial oppressors a hero. And, trust me, there were quite a few. Nowadays, I find myself in the same stage of my life as those once heroic individuals, complaining about the same daily tasks and facing the same dilemmas. I have become less observant of those around me; occasionally, noting the lack of originality in my peers and turning my focus inward rather than outward. Even so, the heroes in my life that I can identify are very close to me. They have become my friends and mentors, in fact. They are not only courageous, possessing many noble qualities, but they are one of a kind. They face the world everyday with a fresh perspective, never giving advice solely upon what sounds good or what will calm my nerves. They ask for help; they fight for their relationships; they take care of themselves; they are the definition of lionhearted. Most of all, they radiate a sense of security, loves, and light.
Heroism is not necessarily how many kittens you have saved from a fire or how many records you have sold, but simply leaving something behind only you could have left. My heroes are not martyrs, rock stars, or revolutionaries. My heroes are just those of us who make the world a little safer, a little stronger, and a lot less scary.
Evolving from a tiny, newborn baby to an angst-ridden, young adult about to be thrust into the mature world, my list of heroes and role models has shrunk drastically. In my pre-teen days, I would have considered every band member who satisfied my urge of standing up to my educational and familial oppressors a hero. And, trust me, there were quite a few. Nowadays, I find myself in the same stage of my life as those once heroic individuals, complaining about the same daily tasks and facing the same dilemmas. I have become less observant of those around me; occasionally, noting the lack of originality in my peers and turning my focus inward rather than outward. Even so, the heroes in my life that I can identify are very close to me. They have become my friends and mentors, in fact. They are not only courageous, possessing many noble qualities, but they are one of a kind. They face the world everyday with a fresh perspective, never giving advice solely upon what sounds good or what will calm my nerves. They ask for help; they fight for their relationships; they take care of themselves; they are the definition of lionhearted. Most of all, they radiate a sense of security, loves, and light.
Heroism is not necessarily how many kittens you have saved from a fire or how many records you have sold, but simply leaving something behind only you could have left. My heroes are not martyrs, rock stars, or revolutionaries. My heroes are just those of us who make the world a little safer, a little stronger, and a lot less scary.
