The Rise and Fall of the Strong

“Hard times create strong men. Strong men create good times. Good times create weak men. And weak men create hard times.”

—G. Michael Hopf, from his novel Those Who Remain

The cyclical nature of the rise and fall of strong men (and women) is not a new idea. The author himself says he isn’t claiming an original philosophy but rather is expressing a well observed view of humanity’s history.

The idea is plain. Comfort breeds difficulty and difficulty breeds resilience. Apparently, the medieval Arab historian Ibn Khaldun described the same phenomenon of rising and softening dynasties. When stated so elegantly in the quote above though, it’s confronting. It also couldn’t be more timely.

This tight, four-beat argument for the necessity for voluntary discomfort, especially for those of us who swim in an age of abundance, is like a prophetic whisper for those who are lucky enough to have ears to hear.

But it’s hard to hear. Especially given the overwhelming clamor of comfort’s siren call. This is why author Michael Easter calls the phenomenon The Comfort Crises. It’s also why the call to commit to a practice of voluntary discomfort isn’t so much noble as it is practical. A self-sustaining means to interrupt this devastating cycle of decline.

What’s most striking to me though is I’ve never shared this quote with anyone who didn’t immediately nod in agreement. It’s self-evident. Obvious, even. But somehow it’s still ignorable as though untrue.

The idea of willfully prioritizing the hard way to have the better life is treated as optional. Like a good idea for someone else to do someday. I feel it myself. But am I that arrogant to believe that I am exempt from this cycle of humanity.

I have no interest in brow-beating here. Instead, this is where we might want to resist the passive nod to the proverb and ask a question instead...

If hard times create strong men and strong men create good times, what time are we living in exactly?

If you are fortunate enough to be living in good times (and I hope you are), there is a non-optional cost if you want to keep these good times rolling. It’s simply this: We must choose to do something uncomfortable every single day.

Better, a few uncomfortable things.

Better still, build your life around this hard way.

Be the first to volunteer to get up in the night to take the dog out for a pee or to change your baby’s diaper. Be the last person to start eating at the dinner table while becoming famous for washing the dishes when the eating is done. Workout before you start your day, especially when you don’t feel like it. Go for a walk, no matter the weather, and pick up some trash along the way. Do something for someone without getting credit, especially if that someone is a person your disagree with politically. Begin each day with a cold shower instead of hot.

None of this is to be cruel. These are little things. Tiny efforts to maintain, and increase, our strength before we need to be strong. To do the work when we’re most tempted to be lulled to sleep.

What’s terrible is how often I believe I’m awake when I’m actually lost in a dream. Like a night watchman who’s given into the warmth of the fire, we are more vulnerable than we think.

Whether letting our muscles atrophy or our character erode, no one commits to becoming weak. It happens all on its own. Organically. Entropy doing it’s effortless work, like gravity releasing water downstream. The truth is we are either becoming strong or becoming weak. There is nothing static about it. No middle ground.

Sure, there are difficult circumstances that are outside of our control that make life hard without our choosing. But how often do these things turn out to be an excuse, or even a grace in disguise? A means to wake us up when we’re not willing to splash cold water on ourselves. Giving into the temptation to eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we may die is an understandable but foolish response. At least when the pursuit of these sorts of comforts become the focus of our lives.

If I’m honest, I overestimate my resilience, unknowingly conspiring with the enemy. Like opening up the gates and actively inviting hard times my way. When all the while, a simple voluntary discomfort practice could have strengthened me for the inevitable fight, even while promoting a life of flourishing no matter the circumstance.

Don’t pray for an easy life, my friend. Pray you and I will be the strong ones when life becomes predictably difficult. Then after our prayers, let’s do something about it.