Mini-Dosing the Things That Are Too Hard

Metaphor time, our favorite.

Over on Twitter (no need to look, per the whole reason this newsletter exists), Dr. Keith Siau tossed out a med-ed discussion question: Name some conditions that cause people to be partly non-ambulatory, i.e. you do need that wheelchair, but you don’t need it 100%, and you might even at times be astonishingly agile.

Let’s pause and review just how much I disdain the “crutch” metaphor, when used in the self-improvement space to mean “something you don’t need, but you use it anyway, and thus sabotage yourself.” I abhor this metaphor because it is completely divorced from reality: Crutches offer no benefit whatsoever if you can actually walk without pain or difficulty.

An elevator? Sure. That’s a godsend when needed and a cause of deconditioning when used gratuitously.

Crutches, in contrast, at best will slow you down and weigh you down if you haul them around when you don’t need them, and they are far more taxing on the hands, wrists, and shoulders than just walking. The only way for a non-metaphorical crutch to make your life easier is if you actually need it.

So that’s not our metaphor.

Now back to my answer to Dr. Siau’s question, source of our object lesson for today: I’ve had a couple injuries (back, foot) where I could walk short distances with no problem at all, but eventually the pain kicked in hard after a certain amount of steps. The solution was not to avoid walking at all out of fear of that eventual pain. The solution was to walk (easy, efficient, agile) until the pain hit the warning zone, then use the wheelchair or crutches to get through the rest of the day.

(Another pause: This is not medical advice for your health condition, it is the report of how my particular cases were best managed. Talk to your doctor. Seriously? Sheesh.)

The advantages of this method in my two example cases:

• I got as much walking-time as could be had, which has many health benefits generally and also makes your life nice.

• I didn’t have to shy away from walking as much as possible out of fear that I’d be stuck once I’d done too much; I had the tools to carry on with the rest of my day in a manageable fashion. Obviously I did need to organize my schedule to accomplish early in the day the things that were more easily done on foot.

• There was a seamless transition from sharply-limited abilities to recovered-as-possible. Gradually I was able to make it longer and longer without pain and then there we were. (I still have to change shoes about every 5,000 steps to manage the foot situation, but as diseases go you could do a lot worse. No complaints.)

Here’s the application of the metaphor for your ministry or your vocation: Sometimes there’s a thing you know would be better to do 100%, but you can’t actually do it 100%.

What it looks like:

• It would be ideal to provide intensive mentoring to everyone in your parish who needs it, but you only have a handful of available mentors.

• You wish you could fund a given work of mercy for everyone who needs it, but the budget will only cover a small portion of the intended recipients.

• The people (at home, church, or elsewhere) clamoring for your attention are asking for help that they truly need and that you are uniquely able to offer, but there’s only so much of you.

Or gosh, maybe you read this super-helpful evangelization book and you’re so excited about thirty different ideas, but reality check: You can’t do all the things for all the people all the time.

So, our metaphor. If there’s something that you’ve discerned is truly important to do as much as you can, do it the amount that you can.

Not the amount that is going to wreck you, or sabotage your long-term goals, or keep you from attending to other important tasks.

=> Because this is central to your ministry, to the point that doing it feels far better than not-doing it, you will naturally do as much as you are reasonably able. Then you will feel your limit hit (hopefully not with physical pain, but my goodness Fathers thank you for wincing up and down off the altar when that’s the only viable option), and you’ll have to attend to the other things.

You don’t need to feel guilty about this. You don’t need to apologize for your poverty. Give your parish, or your family, or your community the amounts that you can, and then that’s all you have.

It’s fine. God’s not poor. He can manage the rest.

Share

FYI if you missed the memo: I created “sections” on this newsletter, because I wanted to write about some topics other than evangelization but leave it up to subscribers to pick and choose their dosages. Hit the “subscribe” button to go to your subscription settings and fix things how you like them:

Also: Substack periodically attempts to improve things, and I believe I have toggled away the most annoying of those unasked for helps, but my apologies in advance if you are subject to some such annoyance. All content on this newsletter is free to read (combox is a thank-you perk for sponsors), and any attempts at a shakedown are not mine.