On the Subject of Giving Up

"Ichi, Ni, San..." and so on we went, counting off kicks in Japanese. It seems like forever ago, those classes at No Limits Karate. I spent a good portion of my childhood in the dojo, which my father ran for 8(ish) years.  In the moments when I was tired or frustrated, unable to master a new technique, I would always want to say "I can't" and give up. But those words didn't exist while I was on the mat, and when you can't give up, you only have one choice: keep going. And when I kept going, all those things I thought I couldn't do, I did.

Amazing how stuff like that sticks with a person. To this day, in my head, anything is possible. Every dream is worth trying. Even when things look rough, I just remind myself that goals take time, and that if you care about something, you need to see it through until the end.

As a result, I have a tendency to stay. I'm the person who waits by the window one more minute to see if that last firework will shoot in the sky. I'm the fisherman who throws my line in the water once more, because maybe this time the fish will bite. I'm the hopeless optimist waiting patiently for disappointment, because sometimes you have to keep walking through the storm before you can see the sun.

But there is a time that you have to say enough is enough. The fireworks are over. The fish won't bite. The restaurant is not going to pick up business; the event is a bust; the club isn't getting new members--and it is simply time to let it die.  

Maybe some dreams are meant to remain undone. 

Consider for a moment Great Gatsby. Gatsby stood for so long, staring at a light at the end of a dock. He stood, waiting for the opportunity to take hold of a dream from years past. When Daisy finally came, he was so happy, until he realized she had moved on. What once was a world of possibilities had now become a closed door, which he still looked at like a window. He thought that Daisy would leave Tom, that he would be able to woo her back and that it would be as though nothing had ever happened. But life had happened and nothing could undo the time lost. In chasing his impossible dream, Gatsby made himself believe a lie, and in the end, he fell. 

If a goal is unachievable, and yet we continue to chase it, we waste ourselves. Would it not have been better for Gatsby, and even for Daisy, if he had just let her go and found a new dream to chase? While we find it admirable that his love was so steadfast, in the end, it was wrong of him to want to erase the life Daisy had made for herself. It was just as wrong for Daisy to encourage him in his hope. 

There comes a point where pushing forward is no longer perseverance but instead is self destructive. If this is the case, the only healthy thing to do is give up, so that we can start fresh. 

When I was about 13, I gave up karate. Not long after that, my dad gave up the school. He still cared about karate, sure, but it was time. Karate was no longer his priority. He turned his attention to ministry, and now instead of running a dojo in a warehouse, he runs a food pantry and church (still in a warehouse). The point is, if my dad hadn't been willing to give up on one dream, he never would have been able to pursue what he cared about most.

(No Limits Karate school, Dad in the front, me in red behind him)

As hard letting go may be, as wrong as quitting may seem, sometimes it really is the best answer. The dream is already dead, and we just have to be willing to drop it. The question then becomes, how do we know when to scale the walls and when to walk away?