What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?

The immortal artist Vincent van Gogh, whose heart burned brighter than the stars he painted, once asked: “What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?” In this question lies a challenge to all who live—to rise above fear and to give shape to their deepest dreams. Van Gogh, who knew both torment and transcendence, did not speak these words from comfort or success, but from the crucible of struggle. He knew that life without courage is not life at all, but mere existence—a dim echo of what might have been. For only through attempting, through daring the impossible, does the soul fulfill its divine purpose.

In the age of the ancients, philosophers taught that courage was the first of virtues, for without it no other virtue could survive. The farmer must plant though the storm may come; the sailor must sail though the sea may rage; the artist must create though the world may not understand. Van Gogh’s question is not merely about painting—it is about being. To live without courage, to never attempt what burns within the heart, is to betray the sacred fire that the gods have placed within us. Fear, comfort, and doubt may preserve the body for a time, but they starve the spirit. Only those who dare, even in failure, taste the fullness of existence.

The origin of Van Gogh’s words can be traced to the heart of his own journey—a life marked by rejection, poverty, and despair. He sold almost none of his paintings during his lifetime. He lived in isolation, often misunderstood, often mocked. Yet, despite the shadows that surrounded him, he continued to attempt. With trembling hands and a restless soul, he poured his anguish and wonder into color, into light, into motion. His courage to create in the face of despair gave birth to works that would one day illuminate the world. In him we see the truth of his question: that life becomes meaningful not through ease or success, but through the courage to try, to reach, to create even when all seems lost.

Consider also the story of Galileo Galilei, who dared to look to the heavens and proclaim that the Earth moved around the sun. The world condemned him, the church silenced him, and yet his courage to attempt the pursuit of truth changed forever the way humanity saw the cosmos. His life, like Van Gogh’s, was not rewarded with glory in its own time, but the light of his courage outlasted the darkness of his persecution. Through Galileo’s defiance and Van Gogh’s persistence, we learn that courage is not the absence of fear—it is the will to act despite it.

Van Gogh’s question, when examined deeply, becomes a mirror to the soul. It asks each of us: What dreams have you buried because of fear? What calling have you silenced because you were afraid to attempt? Too often, people live in quiet resignation, content to remain within the boundaries of safety. Yet safety is a cage disguised as comfort. To live only where one cannot fail is to refuse the possibility of flight. The painter must lift the brush, the writer must pick up the pen, the lover must speak their truth—even if rejection awaits. For in daring lies the essence of life itself.

The ancients knew this truth well. The heroes of myth—Odysseus, Perseus, Heracles—were not without fear, but they acted despite it. Their glory was born not of victory alone, but of endurance and audacity. Courage was their sacred virtue, the flame that separated the living from the merely surviving. And so too, Van Gogh reminds us that every soul must become its own hero, waging its own battle against hesitation and despair. Life without courage is like a sky without stars—endless but empty, vast yet lifeless.

The lesson, then, is clear: dare to begin. Whatever your calling may be, attempt it. Fail if you must, but fail nobly, having given yourself fully to the effort. Do not wait for perfect conditions or the approval of others; they may never come. Courage is born in the act itself. Every step you take toward your dream awakens strength you did not know you possessed. To live with courage is to live truthfully—to honor the fire within and let it burn, even if it consumes you.

So remember, O seeker of meaning, the eternal wisdom of Vincent van Gogh: that life without courage is a life half-lived, a canvas left blank. Whatever your dream, whatever your fear, begin now. Lift your hand, take your step, speak your truth. For in the attempt itself—in the striving, the reaching, the refusing to surrender—you will find not only purpose, but beauty. And one day, like Van Gogh’s sunflowers, your courage will bloom in light that endures beyond your time.