Brave

I am obsessed with the song "Brave" by Sara Bareilles.  I have posted it on Facebook twice, watched the video an embarrassing number of times, and had the song on repeat for a full hour this afternoon while I was home alone and straightening up the house. 

When I am obsessed, I go big.

Every time I watch this video I cry.  Or at least I almost cry.
I can't explain it, really.
But I think I will try.

Often, I feel like there are two sides to me.

There's the insecure, shy girl bound by duty, the girl who meets deadlines, who has a panic attack in the face of spontaneity, who tries to keep her house clean, who lives by her to-do list, who colors neatly within the lines.

And then there's this other girl inside of me.
She is actually spontaneous. 
She dances. 
She sings loudly. 
She wears a twirly dress. 
She laughs. 
She colors a Christmas tree orange and the sky purple and maybe she colors within the lines and maybe she doesn't.

She is free.
She is free.
She is free.

When I listen to this song, I see that girl dancing and laughing, and I want to be her. 
When I listen to this song, that girl dances right up to me and reaches for my hand and asks me to toss aside my inhibitions and rules and to-do list...
...and just dance. 
She asks me to sing
and twirl
and create
and write
and be brave.

I want to be brave.

I want to be brave enough...
...to write
...to create
...to laugh
...to move to a house in the country
...to open my arms wide to this world
...to be free.

I wanna see me be brave.
I wanna see you be brave.

Show me how big your brave is.

I wasn't necessarily being brave in this picture (although I did think I might fall right off that dock), but I felt happy in this picture...and goofy...and free.