Courage is very important. Like a muscle, it is strengthened by

“Courage is very important. Like a muscle, it is strengthened by use.” So spoke Ruth Gordon, an artist of spirit and endurance, whose words carry the resonance of one who had wrestled with life’s trials and triumphed. In her simple wisdom lies a timeless truth—that courage, like the sinews of the body, grows only through the strain of testing. It is not a gift bestowed at birth, nor a flame that burns without tending. It must be exercised, challenged, and used, or else it weakens, withers, and dies within us.

In the ancient world, the wise often likened virtue to discipline. Just as the athlete must train the body, the soul must be trained through struggle. Courage, then, is not a single act of boldness, but a practice—one that deepens with repetition. Each time a person confronts fear, resists despair, or stands firm in truth, the muscle of courage grows stronger. And like all training, it begins in pain, for the first steps toward bravery tremble beneath the weight of uncertainty. But as the heart learns to endure, what once felt impossible becomes natural, even effortless.

Look to the life of Rosa Parks, whose quiet defiance on a segregated bus changed the course of history. When she refused to give up her seat, it was not because she felt no fear—indeed, fear must have pressed heavily upon her—but because she had exercised courage throughout her life in smaller, unseen ways. Each act of integrity, each refusal to submit to injustice, had trained her spirit. So when the moment of destiny arrived, her muscle of courage was ready. The world saw one act of bravery, but behind it stood a lifetime of preparation.

So too, in our own lives, courage is not born in grand gestures but in daily choices. It grows in speaking truth when silence feels safer, in showing kindness when cynicism tempts the heart, in taking a step forward when doubt whispers “stay.” Every time we act with courage, we add strength to our spirit. And when the great tests of life arrive—as they always do—we will find within us a reservoir of power built through those quiet, unseen struggles.

Ruth Gordon herself knew the long road of perseverance. Before her success as an actress and writer, she faced countless rejections and failures. Yet she pressed on, year after year, defying the voices that told her to yield. Her words were born from that long labor of endurance. She understood that courage is not only the valor of warriors, but the persistence of the dreamer, the artist, the believer who refuses to abandon their path. Every trial became her training ground, every disappointment a forge for her inner strength.

We must learn from her wisdom. Do not wait for courage to come to you fully formed, for it never does. Instead, seek it out in small beginnings. Face a fear each day, however small—a difficult conversation, a new endeavor, an honest confession. Each act will stretch your spirit, adding new fibers to the muscle of courage. In time, you will find yourself able to bear far greater burdens than before, not because fear has vanished, but because your strength has grown greater than your fear.

The lesson, then, is eternal: Courage must be practiced to live. It is the divine muscle of the soul, the power that lifts us beyond the ordinary into the realm of the extraordinary. Exercise it in daily life—through truth, compassion, and perseverance—and it will never fail you when storms arise. For just as the warrior trains before battle, so must the heart train before life’s trials. And in that sacred training, you will find the quiet, unshakable joy of knowing that within you beats the heart of the brave.