“Depression can’t live in a body that’s moving.”
That’s what a buddy said to me the other day. He’s a counselor and I guess you’d say a “life coach,” so it was great to hear a professional affirm something I’ve come to believe down to the core of my being as an immutable natural law.
We were musing about the positive side of aggression. (Yes, there is one. Call it “assertiveness” if “aggression” is too toxic for you.) We both gave voice to something that had been rattling around in the back of our minds, sort of a low background hum buzzing right below the threshold of consciousness.
I was having a hell of a day last week. Suffice it to say that a lot of things had piled up enough to create a narrative of hopelessness. It started getting so bad that God had to intervene with a couple of unexpected calls in the middle of the day from guys I almost never hear from.
I’m not one to ascribe divine intervention to every felicitous event, but even I couldn’t help but to read the tea leaves here. Two men I respect and admire called to check in and/or ask for my advice about some things at precisely the right moment.
It broke the “poor me” narrative.
The bitch demon Resistance wasn’t done with me yet, though. She had one more shiv to throw at me, and it hit the mark.
That’s when I got mad. Cursing mad. Furious.
It was one of those back-against-the-wall moments where retreat was no longer possible and the bully in front of you is comparatively softer. I punched back.
As it happens, the bully had a weak jaw.
I took steps that got unbelievable results. It felt gooooood. And, it was a revelation: Avoiding the hard things doesn’t save you from the battlefield—it ensures you will end up there—unarmed. Better to take the initiative and walk through the cannon smoke. Pick up a rock if that’s all you have, but go, maggot.
It seems stupid to call it a “revelation” when I’ve been taught this lesson eleventy-billion times, but that’s what it takes for the vast majority of us: reps and repetition. Reps and repetition…
I was telling my life coach buddy about it a few days later. That’s when he said, “Depression can’t live in a body that’s moving.”
I finally got it. More than got it—it lit an enduring fire.
I don’t think I’m special or different. I think this is common to most men. The longer we prolong doing the hard things, or the longer we refuse to face our Goliaths, the more depressed we get.
(This just in: water is wet.)
I saw this the other day. It’s the preview for the James River Church’s men’s conference. Evidently it’s a big deal, but I wouldn’t have heard of it if not for the fact that they evidently had a male pole dancer do a little routine at the event.
It pissed me off for reasons I’m still trying to untangle. They had identified the malaise among men. The disconnectedness. The weakness. The “father wound.” They’re aware of the unprecedented challenges men face in the first quarter of the 21st century—I would definitely call it a “war” on masculinity. And their solution was fireworks and monster trucks with some Bible quotes slapped onto the whole obscene mess?
And what the hell was a male stripper doing there??? Even a female stripper would have made a kind of sense, but a MALE STRIPPER?!?”
There’s a right way and a wrong way to re-ignite the men. All this did was highlight the wrong way.
I’m probably not being fair. I wasn’t there. However, I heard a couple of things in a similar video from the conference, also produced by James River Church and posted on Twitter, that definitely confirms some biases: authentic masculinity, according to the Gospel according to Monster Energy Drinks, is that God wants you to go out and change the world, for your success to be multiplied, etc.
It reminds me of a podcast I came across several years ago from Fr. Ripperger, a Catholic priest (and exorcist, I believe). It was during my failed attempt to be a Realtor. During those long, solitary open houses, I began searching for Catholic sources on authentic Christian masculinity. What did it mean to be a man as a Catholic?
This Fr. Ripperger guy made it sound so simple and easy: A man rejects effeminacy, which is not defined as “acting like a woman,” but as “doing the arduous thing.”
It was a milestone moment. It rang like truth because, unlike so much of the male self-development propaganda out there, it was true.
Weird how that works, isn’t it?
The “arduous thing” could be a million different things. Men’s battles are all personal, but the same themes keep coming up. The point is that a man does the hard thing no matter how he feels. He steps up. He takes responsibility. He chooses the right thing even if it costs him—especially if the cost is his comfort.
Of course every man will stand up and shout a hallelujah. Who wouldn’t? The problem is that it is soooo easy to make excuses. It’s easy to confuse cowardice with prudence.
The result? Inertia. Stuff doesn’t get done. The weight crushes us. We despair, not just of escaping it, but we die of shame. Then: more depression.
The solution is, as is usually the case, is doing the hard things.
“Depression can’t live in a body that’s moving.”
So, whatever is holding you back, go punch it in the face.
Rise Above is a reader-supported publication. For less than a cup of coffee per month you can support my mission to help men rise above fear, restore authentic masculinity, and reclaim their God-given leadership roles in order to rebuild their homes, communities and the world.
Gooood! I saw a clip of the "male stripper pole" on a post by Matt Walsh. You guys are on the same page and are the true leaders of men in this distorted age of ours. BRAVO!