On Bravery: Guest Post by Paul Kingston

Happy Friday! I am so excited to share this post by my friend and colleague, Paul Kingston. His personal story of bravery is inspiring, and as a bonus, his writing is ridiculously publishable, should-be-making-millions FANTASTIC (puts this sista to SHAME). Enjoy!

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I’ve always been a bit of a daredevil.  My idea of fun as a 5-year-old, I’m told, was to find the biggest cliff or drop-off around, perch on its edge, and look naughtily back to my Mom – who was wondering where little Paul wandered off to.  (Incidentally, my Mom took a first-aid class because of me).

More painful to my Mom was my tendency to drag my sisters into the adventure.  One summer at Acadia National Park in Maine, my family was visiting the famed “Thunder Hole”, where the tide comes crashing in like the apocalypse.  I decided to lead my sisters away from the railed-in viewing area and climb atop the slippery rock-face above the thundering water.  This will give you a picture of my madness.

{Thunder Hole, Acadia National Park}

I encouraged my sisters to shimmy on our stomachs to the edge and lean over.  Any slip and we were gone.  The vacationers below were freaking out, and the rising panic underneath me spurred our reluctant retreat.  But let me tell you – the whoopee pies sure did taste sweeter that afternoon.

Now, I have moments of recklessness like this – an attempted Lynnhaven Inlet swim crossing last year came very close to making the top story on the local news – but these are the excesses of a spirit that seeks adventure and purpose.  In 2007, when I was 100 yards out in the ocean, underwater, holding a little girl’s head up so she could get a few breaths as we both got pushed further away from the shore by a riptide, I was scared – but I knew that I had to be there.  When the moment calls, you answer.

Some of my best decisions in life have been spur-of-the-moment, “feeling” calls.  This is ironic because in almost all things I am scrupulously deliberate.

After living in the Boston area my whole life, while working in the computer lab at my grad school I saw a job fair posting for Norfolk, VA.  I had never been there, but something made me book a flight that day.  I flew down alone, stayed in a hotel room, and eventually accepted a job without knowing a single person in the area. 

That summer, I had made a pact with my best friend from Massachusetts: he would come to VA with me, and at least stay a year to see how he liked it.  Unfortunately, he was gone by November, felled by homesickness.  All alone again, I leaned on my new friends in Norfolk – and they were lifesavers.

Most adventures and brave decisions feature a tough moment of loneliness.  At the Oceanfront, it was the moment when I couldn’t hear the people on shore anymore – just the relentless surf pushing me away.  On the November day my friend moved back, it was the stifling silence in the apartment after he drove away. 

Yet I’ve experienced incredible support and love during these adventures.  People reach out to help when someone is striving or struggling.  In the ocean, the little rescue party became a flotilla of surfers and swimmers kicking hard against the tide to save the girl’s life.  Suddenly solo in Norfolk, I gained the friendship of several amazing colleagues who beamed light against the encroaching darkness of my habitual brooding.

Brave decisions initially expose us.  They thrust us out of sheltered areas and into the storm.  I could say I learned things about myself from these experiences, but the truth is I learned more about other people: how wonderful, protective, loving, and daring others will become when they witness someone put it on the line. 

God bless all my Virginia friends; I love you.

{Paul Kingston (right), at Fenway Park}