When Life Makes You Wrestle: Choosing the Courageous Path

We stop wrestling the moment we choose honesty over comfort—yet that’s often the hardest match we’ll ever fight.

When I was a kid I was always at the playground looking for a ballgame or just hanging out with friends. More often than not, we’d be wrestling with each other. The match would go on until someone yelled, “Uncle.” It was one of those pre adolescent rituals. In hindsight, I think the wrestling matches were a preparations for the personal wrestling matches we find ourselves in on a daily bases. We wrestle with choice all the time.

 Sometimes our choices our moral choices and we wrestle with them trying to manufacture a way to make our actions appear moral to ourselves. We endure sleepless nights wrestling. We carry the wrestling match into the next day and to work. We refuse to cry uncle and make the uncomfortable choice. When we become aware that we are wrestling with a moral dilemma it’s good to step back and ask ourselves, “Who benefits?” If the answer is one’s self, it may be time time to cry, “Uncle.”

When you face a tough moral choice, what question helps you see the right path more clearly?

“Integrity is doing the right thing, even when no one is watching.” — C.S. Lewis

The Double Life ~ A Poem by Don Blanding

The Double Life

Don Blanding

How very simple life would be
If only there were two of me
A Restless Me to drift and roam
A Quiet Me to stay at home.
A Searching One to find his fill
Of varied skies and newfound thrill
While sane and homely things are done
By the domestic Other One.

And that’s just where the trouble lies;
There is a Restless Me that cries
For chancy risks and changing scene,
For arctic blue and tropic green,
For deserts with their mystic spell,
For lusty fun and raising Hell,

But shackled to that Restless Me
My Other Self rebelliously
Resists the frantic urge to move.
It seeks the old familiar groove
That habits make. It finds content
With hearth and home — dear prisonment,
With candlelight and well-loved books
And treasured loot in dusty nooks,

With puttering and garden things
And dreaming while a cricket sings
And all the while the Restless One
Insists on more exciting fun,
It wants to go with every tide,
No matter where…just for the ride.
Like yowling cats the two selves brawl
Until I have no peace at all.

One eye turns to the forward track,
The other eye looks sadly back.
I’m getting wall-eyed from the strain,
(It’s tough to have an idle brain)
But One says “Stay” and One says “Go”
And One says “Yes,” and One says “No,”
And One Self wants a home and wife
And One Self craves the drifter’s life.

The Restless Fellow always wins
I wish my folks had made me twins.

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