Three Faces of Courage: Buddhist Wisdom for Confronting Mortality
In my work as a death doula, I've come to recognize that our relationship with mortality requires multiple forms of courage. As Jack Kornfield reminds us, "As children, many of us were taught courage in the form of the warrior or the explorer, bravely facing danger" (Kornfield, n.d.). Yet Buddhist wisdom offers a more nuanced understanding of courage—one that has profoundly shaped my approach to accompanying others through life's final transition.
Buddhism identifies three distinct expressions of courage that prove essential when confronting mortality: Warrior Courage, Courage of Heart, and Courage of Vulnerability. Each offers a different pathway to presence in the face of impermanence.
Warrior Courage manifests as clarity and steadfastness. In Buddhist tradition, this isn't about aggression but about clear seeing and decisive action. The warrior faces reality without flinching or turning away. I witness this courage when people make difficult end-of-life decisions, complete advance directives, or have honest conversations with loved ones about their wishes. This courage acknowledges death directly and takes practical steps to prepare.
As Chögyam Trungpa writes in "Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior," this form of courage "is not being afraid of who you are" (Trungpa, 1984, p. 28). In death work, Warrior Courage means refusing to look away from mortality—both our own and others'—even when society encourages denial.
Yet Warrior Courage alone isn't sufficient. Without the Courage of Heart, preparedness becomes mechanical, disconnected from what matters most. The Courage of Heart keeps us connected to love and compassion even as we face difficult truths.
Kornfield describes this beautifully: "The courageous heart is the one that is unafraid to open to the world, to care no matter what" (Kornfield, n.d.). This form of courage allows us to remain connected to others despite the inevitable separation death brings. It's the courage to continue loving despite loss, to remain tender in the face of grief.
In Buddhist practice, the Courage of Heart is cultivated through metta (loving-kindness) meditation. As Sharon Salzberg explains, "Metta means first knowing our fears... and then transforming them" (Salzberg, 1995, p. 18). This transformation doesn't eliminate grief but embraces it as an expression of our connection to others.
Perhaps most challenging is the Courage of Vulnerability—the willingness to be fully present with uncertainty, with not knowing, with the mystery of mortality itself. This courage acknowledges that despite our preparations and compassion, death remains, in some essential way, beyond our comprehension.
"Facing suffering brings us a great task," Kornfield writes, "to stay true to our deepest values and still remain open and vulnerable" (Kornfield, n.d.). This vulnerability isn't weakness but a profound strength—the capacity to remain open-hearted even when there are no answers or solutions.
In my own journey with death work, I've experienced how these three forms of courage interweave. There are moments when I need Warrior Courage to face difficult realities directly. There are times when only the Courage of Heart allows me to remain present with another's suffering. And there are instances when the Courage of Vulnerability enables me to acknowledge my own uncertainty and limitations.
The Buddhist understanding suggests that true courage isn't about eliminating fear but transforming our relationship with it. As Pema Chödrön notes, "Fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth" (Chödrön, 1997, p. 3). Each form of courage offers a different way to move toward truth rather than away from it.
In our death-avoidant culture, we often lack models for these forms of courage. We're taught to either fight against death or hide from it—neither approach allows for the kind of presence that Buddhist wisdom suggests is possible. As Frank Ostaseski writes, "Death is not waiting for us at the end of a long road. Death is always with us, in the marrow of every passing moment. She is the secret teacher hiding in plain sight" (Ostaseski, 2017, p. 7).
Learning from this teacher requires all three forms of courage: the Warrior's clear seeing, the Heart's compassionate presence, and Vulnerability's openness to mystery. Together, they offer a path toward what Kornfield calls "a heart unafraid to open to the world"—perhaps the greatest courage of all.
References:
Chödrön, P. (1997). When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times. Shambhala Publications.
Kornfield, J. (n.d.). Vulnerability and the tender heart. Retrieved from https://jackkornfield.com/vulnerability-and-the-tender-heart/
Ostaseski, F. (2017). The Five Invitations: Discovering What Death Can Teach Us About Living Fully. Flatiron Books.
Salzberg, S. (1995). Lovingkindness: The Revolutionary Art of Happiness. Shambhala Publications.
Trungpa, C. (1984). Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior. Shambhala Publications.