Being Strong Is A Crutch

A quality that is highly valued in today's culture is the ability to be strong. Not strong in the physical sense, although that is also highly valued, but strong in the spiritual or mental sense; to carry, to resist, to stand firm.

Being strong is an excellent character trait. However, without a key counterpart, strength can be a crutch to lean on that stifles progress.

What's needed in addition to strength is bravery.

Strength is the ability to resist attack or carry a heavy load, but bravery says enough is enough and moves to stop the attack or disperse the heavy load. Strength can shelter you safely in the confines of your fortress, but bravery takes you out to bring peace to your land.

But, metaphors aside, the most frequent use of bravery is not on the battlefield or on a large scale somewhere. Instead, bravery starts in the everyday.

When someone speaks negatively of you, and you smile and don't let it bring your mood down, that's strength. When someone speaks negatively of you, and you put in the effort to diplomatically confront them, that's bravery.

See, to be strong requires no risk on your part – being strong is a defensive reaction that seeks to protect what is already there. And that's good; it's important to protect what is valuable.

Bravery, on the other hand, sees a problem and seeks to find a solution – an action which puts you at risk of failure.

So, how can strength be a crutch?

If all we ever have is strength, we'll never see any change in our relationships or circumstances. We'll be stuck perpetually defending what we have – whether it's our property, our emotions, or any other physical or mental possessions – and our life and it's frustrations will remain the same.

On the outside, things may look great. Others can see the difficulties we’re experiencing and our strength in the face of trial, and applaud us for being strong. But, maybe there's a solution to these trials that could be achieved if we were more than just strong.

We need more than strength. It takes bravery to stick your neck out and say "this isn't right, we need to change it" or "this is right, we need to pursue it".

When you stand up and speak out you risk ridicule, embarrassment, and the scary possibility of being wrong. But, for any real change to happen, bravery is a must.

Be strong. But, also be brave and risk an uncertain present for a better future.

Thoughts on Doing

I wrote a piece earlier on the importance and value of thinking, and now it's time for the flip side of the coin: the importance and value of doing.

Doing is an easier sell – do-ers the world over are remembered, talked about, and praised. And for good reason – the present exists the way it is because someone did something.

To do is to create truth. I could talk all day about how much I like writing songs, but until I actually put pen to paper my song writing dreams are merely words.

Our best of intentions can be questioned without doing. If I love my friend, is that true even if I don't actually act that out? Can I really say I care about others if I neglect those around me?

We learn (or at least we should) by doing. Doing is the greatest teacher: there's no more truthful a teacher than the results of one's actions.

While thinking is looking at a menu purveying the options and wondering which meal tastes the best, doing is ordering one and learning that your choice was good but needs more salt.

While thinking is watching someone from afar and guessing that they're probably not a nice person, doing is talking to that person and finding out that they've just had a rough day.

Thinking sets the stage while doing performs the play.

Also, there's a negative side to thinking that doing can help fix. Thinking too much can be like a snake eating its own tail, going around and around in a self-devouring circle that ultimately goes nowhere. Without gathering new information by doing, we can think ourselves into a false reality that has been created by our own fears, prejudices, expectations, and doubts.

Because thoughts exists in the closed box that is our mind, it's important to take action in order to stay grounded in the world outside of our own head. Thinking uses what we know to form a hypothesis, and doing tests that hypothesis, smashing it up against the hard rock of reality until only the truth remains.

And smashing it is. Doing puts you directly in the path of the unerring pickaxe of reality, and if anything you've put forth is false you'll feel the pain when it's chipped off. But, if you can hold onto what isn't removed, even though the pain is intense and often confusing, you'll be left holding onto a truth that can hold its own in the grinder of reality.

A thought vindicated by reality can be used to improve both your life and the live's of others. But, only through doing is a thought tested and made a truth.

For some, doing is easy. For others, thinking comes more naturally. Regardless, there's a fine balance between the two that's needed for a life lived well.

Thinking puts value behind doing, and doing makes that value real.

Thoughts on Thinking

Our culture glorifies do-ers.

It doesn't matter what you're doing, all that matters is that when someone asks you how you've been you reply, "I've been busy!" – God forbid there be even a moment during our day where we don't have something to do.

When we wait, what do we do? We pull out our phones, flipping through whatever will keep our attention until we move on to the next thing to do.

Doing is everything; thinking comes second, but only if doing is reigning supreme.

Of course, there's nothing wrong with doing. Doing is important – doing is the reason things become done; doing creates, builds, and makes the world move. Life without doing is a massive waste of potential.

But, today's "doing" has an implied meaning to it: I'm busy doing because other people need me to do these things. I'm busy, people need me, I'm important.

Now, I'm not here to cast judgement on the need we feel to be busy. I'm just as guilty as the next person when it comes to wanting to feel important, and I've certainly used the "I've been busy" line before – sometimes it's just a quick answer to the "How've you been question" that is convenient for the time.

There's nothing wrong with doing, but can't we value thinking just as much?

After all, thinking is what should be guiding our doing. Instead of doing based off of whatever else society around us is doing, we should be taking the time to do what is right – and this requires knowing what is right.

Knowing requires understanding, understanding requires learning, and learning requires thinking. And thinking requires blood, sweat, and tears.

Anyone who's done any serious thinking knows that thinking isn't easy. One question leads to 10 more which then leads to 10 more, and many of these questions attack your view of yourself and the world around you.

Thinking is climbing a cliffside in the dark, feeling out the next finger hold with trepidation and hoping a moonbeam will break through the clouds to shine some light on your progress.

Thinking is boxing with yourself; throwing blow after blow onto your body, looking for a weakness but hoping you can stand up to the assault.

Thinking is laying a brick road by hand, sweating on your knees as you carefully place each brick so that someday you can travel on it with ease.

Thinking is not fun.

But, thinking is necessary. Thinking enables doing that matters. It gives you understanding behind your actions, and makes it so that you no longer have to hide behind cliches. Thinking lets you see the world as it really is, and then enables you to live in that world instead of in a fake world created by someone else.

Your actions will become just that, actions, instead of reactions to the pressures of your surroundings. You can live with purpose because you'll know why you are doing the things you're doing.

Thinking will also get you in trouble. Many won't understand why you choose to do the things you do because they haven't taken the time to think. Humans aren't comfortable with change or the unknown, and when they see others like them living differently it will make them uncomfortable, and they may respond in disappointing ways.

There's something about a person sitting quietly, thinking, that throws people off. Why are they sitting there? What could they possibly be thinking? Why don't they do something?

Doing is important – I'll say it again: life without doing is a waste of potential.

However, I for one would rather do 5 things I believe in doing then 50 things I'm doing only because others are doing them.

Doing is valuable, but thinking is what makes it valuable.

Thoughts on Caring

For better or worse, I’m a caring person. Once I engage with another person I want to learn who they are, I want to empathize with them and, if possible, I want to do what I can to bring more joy into their life. There are downsides to this personality trait, the details of which are too long for this post – some other time possibly – but overall it has served me well.

However, over the years I’ve had to learn how to properly think about and use the tendency to care, and have learned some interesting things about caring and how to care correctly.

Briefly, let me define caring as I’ll be using it in this article: caring is displaying kindness and concern for someone, listening intently to what they say and how they say it, and taking action when possible to benefit them.

The main thing I’ve learned about caring is this: care for the sake of caring.

Don’t care about someone because you think that’s what they want, don’t care about someone because you think it will make them like you, don’t care about someone because it will get you something – care about someone because you believe in the value of individuals.

And that’s it – look past the way someone is dressed, look past the consequences of their actions, look past the bad habits in communicating they’ve developed or been taught over the years, and see the person you wish other people saw in you. Then, care about that person.

Then – and this is the hard part – continue to care about that person even when their nastier side is the only thing that’s immediately visible.

There’s a strange freedom that comes with caring for another person only because you want to, and I’ve seen the results of it many times over.

Different people respond differently to care, and in today’s culture many people are resistant to genuine care. People are frightened of care, because most people see caring as a means to an end, and have probably experienced that type of “care” over and over in their lives. Consequently, they’ve put up walls to deflect care and so avoid disappointment and hurt.

Additionally, many see receiving care as a transaction; I received care from somebody, they expect me to give care back. For many, this is a tiring exercise.

We’re a busy and lonely society, and we have to choose wisely where we put our energy and time. Returning care that was never asked for seems like just one more thing to suck up our energy and time.

And so, I’ve noticed that often when we take the time to care about other individuals, at best it’s ignored, or straight up rejected at worst. Consequently, we’ve put up walls to avoid disappointment – and, to fend off the perceived enemy those walls have weapons; unkind words, unreasonable requests, cold looks, etc.

We don’t want to have to put the effort into caring for another person, and even more importantly we don’t want to be hurt by disappointment. So we reject caring because we know that when there’s nothing in it for the other person, they’ll stop caring, just like others have done before.

But, if you can give care merely for the sake of caring, not for selfish gain, there’s a side to others you can see that is not often visible.

If, after throwing up defense after defense a person sees that you’re still taking the time to care about them, something wonderful can happen. They’ve seen that you’re not expecting them to reciprocate, and the care being given doesn’t come with a price tag. The knowledge of this is a huge weight lifted off their shoulders.

I’ve seen it; a person who was cold and prickly at first becomes softer and warmer after you’ve continued caring even when they’re prickly and distant – no, they’re not a completely changed person or the most lovable person in the room, but there’s something new in their eyes, and that’s worth something.

Did I mention that caring merely for the sake of caring can be a huge weight off of your shoulders as well? Think about it; if you care about someone because you want to, there’s nothing anyone can do to take that away from you because your care has nothing to do with how the other person treats you.

That’s not to say that caring will always be easy – far from it – but it now has inherit value to both parties and doesn’t suck the life out of you while frustrating the recipient.

Care because you want to. Don’t care because it’s the right thing to do or because it will help you make friends – although those things are also often true – care because there’s value in caring for another human being.

There’s a joy to that you’ll be surprised by.

The Drive

He drove.

Beneath him the grey pavement flew like a jet stream under his tires, bordered on one side by a yellow line that promised more asphalt, on the other by a white line that warned of unforeseeable danger. These two lines, the only trustworthy characters in sight, swept left, then right, then straight ahead, casting questioning eyes in search of the next twist or turn like a fishing reel into the endless darkness.

He drove.

The dim lights from the dashboard cast strange shadows on his face, his eyes the sentry on a castle wall. Beside him the passenger seat was occupied by his thoughts; his only companion the sound from the speakers, an orderly reverberation in the air that reflected the mystery outside.

He drove.

Outside of the vehicle the landscape was painting in abstracts. Diverse forests became seas of ebony, rivers and lakes became swathes of silver, distant hills divided the here from the forever.

Every so often a house would scroll by - a lonely porch light representing the souls inside - and the driver would think upon what it would be like to be someone else.

Every so often a sign would be passed - promising civilization, a turn in the road, or an idealized pace of movement - and the driver would pity it standing alone in the cold.

Above, the heavens watched the headlights weave among the shadowed geography, questioning. Would he make the turn? Was the road too long? Would he ever arrive?

He drove.

The Actress

She stood there, at the front of the stage, as they came up and congratulated her on her final performance.

Some came up together, smiling and offering simple complements that made her heart warm. Others came up by themselves, their bodies hesitant but their eyes earnest, and the words they spoke to her were imperfect but true. They approached and told her of the scenes they most enjoyed, or how the way she'd said such and such a line gave them chills.

Amidst the smiles and words she was aware of those who sat in the back, those who felt the performance was lacking or just plain poor. But she didn't care.

It was something she was happy with, her performance, even if it hadn't always been the one she had hoped it would be. From beginning to end, she'd played every moment as best she was able, and when she made a mistake or missed a line, still she had continued on.

Besides, he had always been there to help her through a forgotten phrase or misplaced step. He was forever the talented one, and somehow always able to find something to say when she couldn't. Even now, as the attendees and other performers paid their respects, she was aware of him, standing just outside a side door of the theater, waiting under the lamppost that graced the sidewalk.

A box of chocolates were being offered to her by one of her longtime friends. Another approached, presenting flowers and lavishing thoughtful compliments - yet, while they represented a relationship that meant the world to her, the flowers, the stage, and even the theater she had spent so many hours rehearsing and performing in no longer meant to her what they used to, and she wanted to put it all down, send a last happy look at everyone else in the room, turn her back, and walk out that door into his arms for good.

But, she waited.

Once they had all paid their regards and the next play started, then, it would be time. As the music started to play, she'd take the veil that was part of her costume from her shoulders and let it float to the ground. She'd let a final look linger over those she'd known so long, press a hand against those closest to her in recognition, then fade out the door, into the light that bathed his loving face, and home.