What a Daring Life Really Looks Like (And What It Doesn’t)
- Connie Leach
- Jan 9
- 2 min read

When people hear the word daring, they often picture something dramatic—big risks, jumping out of an airplane, or completely reinventing their lives overnight. That version of daring can feel exciting and true for some. But, for others, daring can look quite different. Daring might mean getting out of bed on a morning when your body aches, learning a brand new skill, or finally writing the book you’ve been putting off.
A daring life isn’t about doing more or being louder. It isn’t about chasing someone else’s idea of courage or pushing yourself into discomfort for the sake of it. In fact, real daring is often much simpler.
Living a daring life is rooted in intention. It’s choosing growth over fear in small, yet meaningful ways. It’s listening to yourself instead of defaulting to what’s expected. And it’s allowing yourself to take steps—sometimes tentative ones—toward a life that feels more honest, purposeful, and alive.

Life doesn’t always unfold gently. Sometimes we’re thrown a difficult curve—we lose someone we love, face a serious health setback, or lose a job that once gave us purpose. When these moments happen, it’s natural to feel discouraged or want to give up. Taking time for grief, rest, and self-care is not only necessary—it’s essential.
After we’ve given ourselves the time and care we need, there often comes a quieter moment—not of certainty, but of readiness. It’s the moment when we begin to wonder if there might be a way forward that honors both what we’ve been through and who we’re becoming.
Being daring might mean sharing your story instead of keeping it hidden. It could mean reaching out for support, joining a group, or calling a trusted friend. It might look like exploring a new direction, taking a course, or allowing yourself to imagine a different future than the one you had planned.

One woman I worked with was afraid to play her guitar again after her brother passed away. He had loved that guitar deeply, and even though she was incredibly talented and once found joy in playing, the instrument became a source of grief. Picking it up felt like reopening a loss she wasn’t sure she could face.
For her, being daring didn’t mean jumping back into music all at once. It meant taking small, gentle steps. She began by visiting local music stores and attending intimate concerts.
Little by little, she allowed herself to hold the guitars in the shops, sometimes strumming a few chords. Over time, she started to feel more like herself again—reconnecting with the music and eventually playing songs she and her brother had written together. One day, daring meant taking out her own guitar again and allowing herself to feel alive and at peace through the music.

Living a daring life isn’t about having everything figured out. It’s about asking what small next step could help you learn, grow, or feel more fully yourself. It’s about being open to expanding your possibilities—and at your own pace.

So as you think about your life right now, consider this:
What daring step might you take?







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