Tattered Armour

“I think a hero is an ordinary individual who finds strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.”

– Christopher Reeve

Can I admit something? I can’t do it all. I can’t be in more than one place at a time. I can’t meet the needs of everyone.

Can I admit something worse? Despite knowing all of the above, I still find myself trying to prove it all wrong. Trying to stretch myself beyond my reach. Trying to throw as many balls in the air as I think I need to, and blaming myself for not being able to catch them all.

On one of those days when a few of those balls came crashing down, my daughter asked me how I could have forgotten some detail which completely escapes me now, but which I had promised to do. “I guess super mom must have left her cape at home!”, I scoffed to myself in exasperation.

Why do we believe that we have to meet this impossible standard where we must valiantly swoop in and save the day for everyone we meet? Where we must agree to take on additional roles and responsibilities because it is expected of us. Where we must over-commit our schedules in order to prove our productivity and worth. We try to keep up with the perceived heroes that we see all around us: keeping their households in perfect order, volunteering at every opportunity, smiling as they seemingly accomplish it all.

And so we put on our armour. We brave each battle that we face in life, trudging through, bruised and broken. And when we retreat to our safe place, we neglect to remove our covering because we no longer know how to live without it. We have grown so accustomed to its sheer weight that we forget how it feels to be unburdened.

But imagine what could happen if we started to remove that armour.

Imagine if we lay down the helmets that weigh heavily on our heads; the anxieties, burdens and regrets that plague our minds and keep us up at night.

Imagine if we set aside our breastplate, our consistent barrier intended to guard our hearts from being pierced by the words and judgments of others.

Imagine if we took off our capes, torn and tattered from endlessly soaring because we feel that we must push ourselves higher and higher until the entire world is within our view.

Instead of flying off to save a crazed world, what if we sat outside and looked at the stars to save our sanity.

Instead of raising our defenses, what if we lowered the impossible standards that we have set for ourselves and show ourselves some grace.

Instead of responding to every distress signal that we meet, what if we answered the call coming from deep within; the call to slow our pace and create more room to breathe.

We are all faced with our own battles. Sometimes we taste triumph. At times we feel utterly defeated. We may think that we are fallen heroes, but we exude strength each time we get back up, no matter how our knees may tremble.

There is a time and place for armour, and with all that we do we have certainly earned our capes. But we must realize that in order to be as authentic as we can, we must first remove the armament that masks our true identity.

I know now that the fact that I have a cape doesn’t mean I always have to wear it.