I’m not really sure why I feel “pulled” to post this publicly, as my thoughts usually stay my own. I generally only give advice when asked and keep my opinions to myself unless someone believes I have something worthwhile to contribute.
My thoughts here were sparked by my constant obsession to understand. I am driven to reverse engineer systems so that I may understand how a single (or, on rare occasion, multiple coinciding events or variables) can affect a system of operation. As I get older (mostly due to having found the peace of a soulmate in life who has blessed me with children), I have continually reflected on fatherhood, the nature of humanity, and the subsystems of its complicated nature.
Socializing and interaction have always been something I have given a wide berth because I am someone who wants to understand, and if I struggle to do so, I avoid it. Because of fatherhood and the foundation of true support from my wife, I have developed the confidence to be brave and try to emulate the mindset of a warrior toward different aspects of life. Knowing the foundation I stand on, and having worked on my balance as a person, I now look toward the things I most avoid and advance. No matter how badly I may fail, it only enhances my ability and determination to approach that issue again because what supports me in life (God, family, and love) will never let me die, but will revive me for the next attempt.
As this has continued, it has led me to simple wisdom that is far more complex than the ramblings of a younger me. Coming full circle back to the point of this post, I want to share a thought I had as I drove home tonight.
I am no philosopher or great mind. These reflections are still maturing, but much like a piece of steak after the first chew, I know I have more to go, but I know at least that I like it.
Confrontation (or, in broader terms… chaos) between us and either other people or occurrences in our lives constantly forces us to overcome problems or redirect our decisions. Part of that boils down to what strategy we choose in order to achieve victory.
Being a mechanic, there is a saying that even though several of them may accomplish the task, use the right tool for the job. We are talking about judgment, the appropriate use of force, efficiency, and the cost of the tool we judge appropriate to tackle the problem. The same applies to “chaos” in our lives—the stick in the spokes of the smooth progression of our lives.
One of these tools is, or at least should be, near the top of our arsenal.
Starvation.
What is an effective way to defeat an enemy or problem while preserving most of yourself? Isolate it and starve it.
How do you kill a weed? Spray a chemical that blocks the leaves from producing food. A fire? Starve it of oxygen or remove the fuel it uses to spread. A fortified enemy behind high walls? A social elite with a bone to pick? A business competitor? A drama-driven rumor starter? The list goes on.
Evaluate the natural motivation of the thing toward its desired fuel and ask yourself how easily or effectively you can block or remove that source in order to cause the problem to cease to exist.
Now, if you’ve gotten this far, please know that I’m not telling you to starve your child to stop them from throwing a fit. Rather, look to the motivation behind why they are doing such things.
Is the guy at work ribbing you because he can get a reaction? Starve him of the satisfaction. The same can be said about rumors. Notice how rumors only live so long? Starve the social network of any reasonable reaction, and the person making them is bound to lose interest.
Think about how many problems in life can simply be isolated and starved so you may continue progressing forward. When you unsheath your sword to fight every problem, you aren’t just risking injury by attacking it—you are giving up the opportunity to be doing something else for yourself. The opportunity cost must be considered. Mothers always tell their children, “Just ignore them!” So simple, yet when you dive into it, so complex.
I spoke before of the cost, and I would point out that the cost of this tactic is self-reflection.
Children don’t typically have the patience or strength of character to simply ignore their sibling who is picking on them. The problem is that woven into the fabric of each and every one of us are the proclivities to be angry, hateful, spiteful, petty, jealous, outraged, prideful, vengeful, insecure, and afraid.
The danger is that it is hard for us not to confront a rumor and defend ourselves tooth and nail because the flaws of our own character also desire fuel in those moments.
They, too, must be starved.
This is called taking the high road. Being the better person.
Instead of victimhood and screaming “IT’S NOT FAIR!!!”, we choose to leave the problem isolated, starve it of our mental and physical energy, and do the hard part of not feeding our own pride, anger, and outrage. We simply let it fizzle out.
It’s hard—much harder than punching a bully in the nose or digging in for tug-of-war. We have to fight both the problem and ourselves, but it comes with greater reward. You not only learn how not to be controlled by others, but you also gain personal strength by not feeding the parts of yourself that cause problems in your decision-making. Your pride, anger, rage, and dependence on what people think of you begin to shrink.
You are shrinking a tumor inside yourself by starving it.
As you continue to take this road through life, each repeat encounter—both outward and inward—becomes the recollection of a battle that’s already been won before.
Stop being manipulated. Regain your time, energy, and mental focus toward the things that actually matter.
It is extremely difficult, but the more often you choose to starve your problems when appropriate, and the more often you choose the high road, the easier it becomes to be free of outside control and your own vices.
Make room for more virtue in your being, and take the harder but more rewarding path by choosing to starve your problems.
Jonathan Foster
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