Why Not Just Give Up Already?
Why Not Just Give Up Already?
I don’t know about you, but sometimes the only thing I am conscious of is the space between where I am today and where I want to be.
There are days I cannot see the progress. I don’t remember the battles won or the goals previously reached. I am usually exhausted from my toils when this mood arrives. For a moment, I feel like a failure and the leader of a hopeless cause.
Without fail, one of my peeps will call in tears. They’re drowning in their own ambitions, tired from back-to-back workdays. They’ll tell me that nothing they’re doing is working and that they can’t go on another day.
This is when I usually start laughing and say, “You know, I was thinking similar things.”
I remind them of all the times they’ve been in that place before — of all the battles won, and the collection of almost-completed tasks sitting on their plate.
Isn’t it funny how much our perspective can influence our feelings?
This week was one of those weeks for me.
I was tapped. The lights may have been on, but no one was home. I was navigating change I didn’t want and juggling what felt like 1,000-plus things on my to-do list. I was certainly not my usual “we’ll kick the door in and make it happen” self.
On Wednesday, I had agreed to attend a luncheon with a local nonprofit. I wasn’t sure who would be in attendance, nor did I really care. I dragged myself into the venue, looked around, and at almost every booth was a person I had worked with on past projects.
Nearly every single one of these organizations has experienced funding cuts. Some of the faces I remembered were now with new organizations, but they were still working in their preferred areas of impact.
I walked out of that luncheon — one I thought would have no real impact on my week — grateful and humbled.
After listening to 30+ organizations speak about their goals, needs, and communities, I was taken aback by how energized they were. They didn’t seem defeated by funding cuts. If anything, they seemed like they were just warming up.
That’s how we win.
It’s usually not some great, grand effort — but the quiet refusal to quit that gets us down the road, closer to where we want to be. We win when we refuse to become bitter and disenchanted and keep fighting the good fight.
Thank you to the agency that hosted the luncheon.
Thank you to the organizations that stood behind the microphone and spoke about their fight — keep fighting.
Thank you to the community members who support these organizations.
While I’m still tired, I walked away with renewed energy.
Thank you for reminding me why we can’t quit.