Yoga for Life | A Tale of Two Brave Men
A Reflection on Bravery and Truth
Bravery wears many faces.
Some are gentle and creative.
Others are firm and unyielding.
Both can be difficult to witness.
Both are necessary.
In living with presence, we learn that choosing truth over comfort is not always easy.
This week, I’ve been holding a story of two brave men—each revealing truth in very different ways—and reflecting on how hard it can be to see clearly when truth begins to surface.
The First Brave Man: Chris Ramsay
Our friend Chris Ramsay passed away from cancer this past Friday.
Chris was a jewelry professor at Oklahoma State University, Stillwater—an artist, a teacher, and a man who understood that truth and beauty are shaped slowly, often under pressure. He worked with metal and stone, but what he truly shaped were people: their patience, their honesty, and their willingness to trust the process.
When cancer entered his life, Chris chose honesty. He revealed the facts—not to frighten, but to prepare; not to harden others, but to steady them. Truth, to Chris, was a form of care.
And then—bravely, intentionally—he chose to live.
Chris and his wife completed a bucket list together, not in a frantic rush, but with reverence. They took a road trip across the country, gathering shells and rocks along California’s Central Coast—small, ordinary treasures shaped by water and time.
At the Grand Canyon, they stayed long enough to watch the light change—shadows stretching, colors deepening, the landscape revealing itself slowly. They traveled through several European countries as well, tasting foods, lingering at tables, savoring presence.
Chris showed us that bravery can look like joy.
That truth does not cancel beauty.
And that love, when chosen deliberately, can hold even the hardest facts.
The Second Brave Man: Jack Smith
The second brave man stands in a very different arena.
Jack Smith has chosen to reveal truth and facts—the language and weight of law—at a time when many struggle to see what is being unveiled.
Truth-telling of this kind is not gentle.
It does not arrive wrapped in comfort.
It often arrives with consequences.
For some, this unveiling is painful.
For others, it is infuriating.
Seeing and knowing the truth is difficult when anger stands in the way—when fear, identity, or allegiance cloud perception; when what is being revealed threatens the stories we rely on to feel safe.
And yet, truth continues to surface.
Where Their Bravery Meets
Chris Ramsay and Jack Smith lived very different lives and stood in very different worlds.
Yet their bravery meets in a shared place:
Both chose truth over comfort
Both revealed what was real, even when it was hard to receive
Both understood that unveiling is rarely painless
Chris revealed truth through tenderness—through art, love, travel, and presence.
Jack reveals truth through structure—through facts, law, and accountability.
One teaches us how to stay soft while facing reality.
The other reminds us that reality still stands, even when resisted.
Together, they show us this:
Bravery is not one thing.
It can be gentle or firm.
Private or public.
Creative or corrective.
But it always asks us to look more clearly—and to stay.
May we learn to gather what is real.
May we stay present long enough to see the light change.
And may we find the courage, each in our own way, not to turn away.
With reflection and care,
Amy
