Everyday hero

Do you ever look at your life and realise you’re standing there doing things, just thinking you have to because there’s no one else? You find yourself on that horse with bright shining sword thinking, “well the real hero’s not here yet but someone’s got to go out and hold off that army until they arrive. I hope they don’t mind me borrowing this sword for a bit, but I don’t think my old stick would be of any use.

You just go out there and keep doing things, knowing that you only have to hold on for the hero. You don’t want to stop; don’t want to look back and see how far you’ve had to come or how many monsters you’ve had to fight; don’t want to look up and stop for fear that your borrowed sword will be too heavy to lift once more,

And you don’t want to imagine that you might be the only one here because you can’t bring yourself to believe you might be the hero – it’s just too crazy a thought when you know every fault and scar across your heart. How can you dare pretend such greatness for yourself?

You certainly don’t want to stop and think of how much you’re carrying or what would happen if you dropped your guard for even a moment.

“Is this real?” Your voice cries in doubt. “Am I just deluding myself?”

Then you slip and fail for a moment and all those images of great heroes with perfect form and words assault your mind with doubt and the sword feels so heavy and the army so vast.

And you know for certain and an absolute fact that you can’t do this. You’ve only survived from luck and sheer chance and how far can that really take you? You’ve let everyone down because you wanted to pretend you can do this, when really you can’t do anything but make a mess.

Only., only you’re going to hold. You’re going to stand and do this because someone has to and you’re not going to be the one to let everything end up destroyed because you couldn’t wait one more day for the hero. You’ll stand one more time and wait for the quiet of night before you let your limbs shake and tears burn where no-one can see them.

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It’s so easy to carry the doubt. Every day a thousand words and images remind us what a hero should really look like. Every misstep or stupid word is contrasted with the perfection of a hollywood great, complete with adoring fans and wondrous make up.

It’s so easy to remember we’re nothing, when the sound on the air is the trumpet of power and money beyond comprehension, and the blinding light is that great pedestal of movie heroes, unblemished and refined.

Can a hero really be just a simple shop worker or bin person? Can a hero be found in the struggle to wake and simply live? Can it be found in the tears of loss and pain? Can it be found in the struggle just to live when your body fights your every step?

And yet, can a hero ever be found anywhere else? The light and trumpets are just dressing, the absolute perfection, just a mask. When the cameras are switched off do the stars also shake and doubt? Do they fear the mask being torn or shattered?

Sometimes the hero really is just the person who faced their doubts in order to stand up when there was no-one else. And sometimes something as simple as meeting the day and/or offering a person a kindness can be more epic than drawing a sword from a stone to the sound of crashing drums and raucous cheers.

You are a hero. Not because of epic moments but because, no matter how much it hurts, you still care.