WHEN DO YOU GIVE UP?

People say never give up, yet they give up a millon times a day on any number of pedestrian endeavours without even thinking. That’s something to start with. “When do you give up?” Some might look at that question and think it’s absolutely loaded; others might react defensively as if challenged, thinking it’s absolutely absurd and even offensive to have been asked, and a little too hastily might blurt out the ultra-macho blanket answer of “Never.” But if there IS any absolute to that question, it is that both question and answer are absolutely subjective. The most general answer I can give—when do you give up, universally in every circumstance—is when whatever you’re striving to accomplish, when that thing itself gives up on you. Do you give up on your dreams? Only if you were never meant to chase them. I might have once dreamt of being starter shortstop for the Braves but I know, both in present and in retrospect, that I have no chance in hell at ANY professional sport. That was a dumb dream to have. One must take care with that whole “never get up on your dreams” rhetoric. Your dreams might just have been stupid to begin with. Do you give up on your band? You might be in a band with a bunch of douchebags, and not yet know it. I hear that is a common travesty to happen. Or your band might have thought your music sufficient at one point, and gradually lost their enthusiasm for it, and no one had the balls to tell you. Does that necessarily mean that your music sucks? No, it just might mean that your band mates have no balls. And you still might be inclined to persuade them to stay, even to compromise your musical vision to that end, but rarely is there any positive recourse. The bandmates leave. You have not given up on your band at that point, the band has given up on you. You’ve given up by default. Sure, you can get new people—preferably WITH balls—and your musical vision could be realized at last. You didn’t give up on your music, but you DID give up on your band, whether you were a willing party or not. That thing that you were so motivated and enthusiatic for in the beginning died a slow death. You can heal, and you can move on, and you can be infinitely more successful, but you can’t deny that you’d given up at least once before getting there. Do you give up on your marriage? I’ll tell you this: NO divorcee alive can not look you in the eye and say they had never given up on anything. If it were true, then they either wouldn’t be divorced, or they’d be very securely locked up in some sort of institutional setting. Just like finding a new band, they can remarry, and be twice as happy as they were before, and totally score the “happy ever after” with their new spouse, and thus utterly content themselves in the knowledge that they had NOT given up on the overall prospect of LOVE; but the fact remains, and will ALWAYS remain, that the first one didn’t work. And ONE of the original pair had at least wanted to “never give up,” but it happened anyway. And and and. With Crystal, I had once said we would “never give up” and so did she. But there came a time after four years when I—both by a strange mixture of gradual conclusion and sudden sad realization—understood that my wife would never be what she said she would be for me, would never love me like I loved her, want me like I wanted her, esteem me like I esteemed her. I understood it because I recognized, after three counselors and one out-of-state move to try to wipe our slates clean for each other, that she had already given up and was just waiting for me to follow. To try to keep us together any longer would subject Cal to more ridiculous domestic strife and further warp his little mind. It was obvious to everyone involved that any longer together would, for both of us, be an excruciating exercise in futility. It was either give up or die. And for my son, and myself, I chose life. Giving up in this instance was the smartest thing I’ve ever done—not enough to utterly counter the stupidity displayed in getting involved with her in the first place, but by God I gave that woman everything I had to give, materially, bodily, emotionally. Nothing was enough. Tell me that not giving up in that case would have been anything other than stupid. There are times to be macho, to plunge into a seemingly impossible situation with sleeves rolled up and balls a-swinging hither and yon. Sometimes all it takes is someone with that unsinkable of a spirit to bring such a situation to a beneficial conclusion for all involved, or at the very least, for themselves. Some impossible situations are not so impossible. In fact, I think very few of them are. In the majority of instances, all it takes is someone with the guts to keep going. Those are the people to which we owe our progress as a species. But life isn’t always like that, and for all 9 billion people on this planet being their own universe, there are going to be collisions of worlds in which the damage is irrevocable. There are going to come times where no combination of chemicals, no best-laid plans, no introspection, no external scrutiny, NOTHING will be able to steer the Titanic away from the iceberg in time. The key to surviving those situations isn’t over-inflated machismo. It’s being smart enough to know when the experiment is a failure, to know when to cut your losses and salvage what you can after the machismo has been spent. Let your mind dream for you, let your heart guide you, let your body produce for you. But let your brain tell you when it’s time to give up. And be enough of a grown-up to listen.