The Question that Saved me...
(a positive experience with depression)
For as long as I can remember, I have been enamored with the phrase: “a person of consequence”. It seems both ambiguous and strikingly specific. That word: consequence. Impact. It spoke of results, of fomenting change. Of leaving a mark. It has gravitas, the idea made me feel important. Powerful… But the thing is, we all have consequences. We all have an impact. The real question is how aware we are of the consequences of our actions? How much responsibility do we feel? And how deliberate are we with those actions and inactions, with those inevitable times where our actions outstripped our intent and those consequences fell on the wrong people…
At some point in my late teens I became quietly obsessed with an idea: What do I offer? What do I cost?
Why yes, I was depressed at the time, but interestingly enough, this thought provided a rope – and while I can certainly see taking that idea (and that rope) into a dark place, It actually propelled me to a wildly different relationship with my existence.
What do I cost?
What did it take to get me here? To feed me and grow me and teach me?
Well... that’s a lot…
Everything I have eaten, every blade of grass I have stepped on, every person who I have hurt or failed or let down… but it’s more than even that. Every teacher who gave up their afternoon to explain a subject I didn’t understand. Every coworker who covered my shift or helped me out of the weeds when I was drowning behind the line. My grandfather working late to leave a little more money for his grandkids and his grandmother who taught him how to skimp and save and as a gift to a generation he may never meet.
The artist who painted my favorite painting or performed my favorite song. All of this consumption, all of this taking. I invested it all, filled my belly and my bones and my very soul. It made me who I am…
Now what?
In the midst of a shitty 19 year olds version of depression on the 3rd floor of an anarchist collective in Detroit, I imagined facing my cost. Facing everyone and everything that suffered or died or was slightly inconvenienced to make me who I am and I asked:
“was it worth it?”
Well, I sure as shit didn’t say yes – but that question was actually the glimmer I needed – the crack in the dark that a sliver of light, of hope, bled through.
The answer I felt in my bones was: “not yet.”
Because I could feel each of those 19 years of debt, but suddenly I could also see generations of investment. Ancestors and teachers, friends and strangers who have given me so much. Built me and equipped me in a very real sense. I am an accumulation, a collection of hope and good will and belief that small actions can make the world a better place…
It has already been given. Now the only question is, what am I going to do with it?
That thought never left. It is an old friend at this point, an endless well and a wind at my back. I contain multitudes. I carry the smile of miss Delito – my 3rd grade teacher who wore jean jackets and had a cool haircut and I carry the quiet encouragement of a man who never received that kindness himself.
This thought carries me, each impact of a moment someone made me feel important or listened to, and each moment where I failed to be a a link in that particular chain.
To be clear, this isn’t some running tally that I obsess over, not some constant threat or worry – but it functions as more of a yardstick. As a scale. A constant reminder that I am and always will be a person of consequence. Each moment I am making decisions, acting in ways that impact the people around me. I can’t always control the ripples, can’t be paralyzed by fear or indecision (which is a decision in itself) but must always act with as much information and awareness and responsibility as I can. My presence costs. It is undeniable. My path is to minimize that cost, direct it, and try to provide a benefit that is at the very least, worthwhile.
And to bring it all back down to earth, this is what I am training.
Ripples. Choices. Costs and opportunities.
We live in a world full of socialized loss and personal gain. Parking like an asshole rarely causes a problem – what are the chances that they really need to use this fire lane? Or this handicapped spot? I will just be a minute…
And if this is that time – that one in a million, that situation that necessitated the rule: What then? Who pays the price for that decision? What did you learn and how does that impact your life moving forward?
Injury and inconvenience distributed. Your life was still easier. Their life was harder. That is your legacy. That is the energy you are putting into the world. More than that, that is what you are practicing. Training. An acceptance, to risk damaging others for your convenience. It is an announcement for anyone who is paying attention of exactly where your values lie.
This decision tree happens a hundred times every day – when I am in the gym I try and watch people come in, see their demeanor, ask questions and understand what they are working with. I move and stand and speak with intent to organize, to orchestrate an experience. To let people know that they are seen and paid attention to and cared for. To model behavior – to practice awareness. The entire point of a gym is to accept deliberate immediate discomfort in search of a future (and not guaranteed) gain. I am simply trying to expand on that idea. Opportunities to offer up a small discomfort of my own to help someone else. To begin to see leverage advantages that allow relatively cheap actions on my part have an outsized impact on someone else. To take that chance to invest my time and energy in the hope of a better world.
What do I cost. What do I offer.
I make mistakes. Often. I try and learn from them and repair the damages as much as circumstances allow. Inconsiderate is a volatile word, but it is, by definition, without malice. It just means that I missed something. Was unaware of my impact. A friend once told me that curiosity is the greatest training tool that there is, and I love that idea because if we are curious about the world, the first order of business is to pay attention.
Inattention is insidious because it is self-protective. We can only change what we see and if we fail to feel or notice the consequences of our actions then it is easy to believe that any problems couldn’t possibly be our fault. Failure to look inward, failure to examine our part in this causes us to see everyone else as the problem. We take up too much space, waste other people’s time and opportunities because it is less work for us. “This is easier for me and probably isn’t a problem” and the unspoken addition – “and if it is a problem, it is someone else’s”.
Privatized gains. Socialized losses.
We can turn on the news and see the consequences of those decisions on a world stage. CEO bailouts, global war and back room dealings. Greed and selfishness and the normalization of “looking out for number one”. These men rail about how they are self-made. “Alphas”. That they earned their status without any handouts. In general there are two types of these guys: The grifter who’s next line is an offer to sell you the secrets of their success, the cheat codes to break out of the matrix and that fucking people over is the natural order – and the unaware. Those who simply fail to see how many people are out there trying to make the world better, all the people who have worked and gifted and helped them without asking anything in return.
It is sometimes useful to turn the question around. To think about every time someone else took a little bit of discomfort or inconvenience to make your life better. Think about all the times a stranger went out of their way to make life a little easier for you, not because you are special but because they could. We are the amalgamation of so many individual efforts, of parents and teachers, bosses and coworkers, of clients and call center employees who had an opportunity to help and chose to do it. Think about how it felt to be considered, and think about what you did with that feeling. Did that sacrifice die with you? Or was it nurtured? Strengthened and spread and carried to someone else?
These are the flowers, seeds sown by everyone we have ever interacted with.
How did I tend to them? Did I weed or water?
And what seeds am I sowing?
What do I offer. What do I cost.
That question saved me. Made me. Admittedly made me a little neurotic and anxious, but when I see the alternative I would rather err on the side of caring more.
The gym was described to me as a laboratory. Over the years it has become more akin to a garden. An environment in which I can practice and grow. I can practice seeing the ripples, how my choices affect my outcome. More than that how my actions influence the space, how that in turn influences the inhabitants. What are the repercussions for my decisions and who pays for them.
I still love the phrase, “a person of consequence” – but I think that wording leaves the most important piece unspoken.
Deliberate.
As much as possible.
Deliberate consequences.
What do I cost. What do I offer. What are the effects of my actions and who pays the price.
I have impact. I have consequences. I have a price.
The trick is to make it worth while.
burkey - owner/operator of Station515 || ferndale, mi || www.station515.com || physical objects