a constant in which I can find no consistency

What is bravery? 

Is it defined, restricted to only those who have crossed the battlefields, risen from a past, left a relationship?

Or can it be simple?

Can someone be considered brave for stepping out of their box, out of their comfortability to try that which they thought they could not or were simply to scared to?

And what does it mean to be scared?

We complicate things when we narrow or define them, 

placing limits on things which limits should not exist.

It is the simple act of breathing that is bravery,

arising from the cold comforts of bed to face the day ahead,

and all that it brings.

This dear one is bravery. 

It is not a righteous act that only the pretty and proud can achieve. Rather you and I live in a constant battle of whether or not we will reach into the depths of our being to pull the plug that is holding our fear in, releasing it to the spirits of freedom.

Learn to breathe again.