Hunker Down

An essential motif in popular culture, for the modern man, is exemplified in a broken Bruce Wayne, tinkering in the Batcave. Often in the wake of defeat, new threats or revelation, we find Wayne down there, going over exactly what went wrong or what he needs to do next. He seeks (or begrudgingly) receives counsel from his elder and has to deal with the fact that right now, he isn’t quite up to the task.

We need Bruce Wayne in the Batcave to remind us how essential it is to hunker down at times, if we are to survive the toil and turmoil of everyday life. The image is repeated throughout literature and popular culture. It’s Thoreau at Walden Pond. Wolverine taking some down time in Madripoor. It’s Jesus napping in a boat. In any man’s search for meaning, truth and meaningful work, he can often be smashed about by life until he’s seemingly hanging by a tenuous thread.

It can be conflict, illness, doubt, hardship or loss. Sometimes it’s just hard work, plain and simple. We can wear ourselves down to an ugly stub, with little left to give to the people we love and serve. Some of us become irritable and short tempered. Others make more mistakes than usual. With red eyes and pallid faces, we often forge ahead and fail to see the signs of impending disaster - or the greater tragedy of life without purpose, hope and meaning.

We need time off, time away, apart from the mechanism and demand of our daily toil if we are to recover and respond anew to the marvel of life and our creative response to it. One great reason to take this time and stop is that you are nowhere near as efficient as you could be when you burn the candle at both ends. I believe that there is a period of great vitality and inspiration in moments of stress and crisis. There is a creative impetus that can take hold of us when things are at their worst. It’s a beautiful thing.

But the idea of applying this long term, as a lifestyle choice, is a bad joke. There is no honour in one’s self destruction, particularly in the service of profit or someone else’s standard of efficacy. There is no grace in it. We need good clean food and the salvation of sleep. This is how we work towards being our best. That burst of endorphins in the face of a new challenge or truth, it ain’t the mushroom, it’s the star. Remember that. You will falter, fall, slip and screw it up more times than necessary if you’re a fumbling wreck that isn’t rested and properly fed - and that’s as much about quality as it is quantity.

The second reason you can’t just keep on keeping on, when you’re at that critical point of needing a break, is the inevitable perception that this is who you are. It doesn’t take long at all to form a notion about someone. The last thing you want people to believe is that the zombie-esque, coffee and donuts, eating at your desk like some kind of sloppy Jabba the Hut is who you are; that this is what you’re all about. Your presence in the world needs to speak of greater things than delirium in name of getting things done.

We need to be the stable, calm, effective, creative, empathetic and efficient people of the world. This quiet grace, thought and creativity is what’s needed most. Leave the jittery, aggressive, chest beating and door slamming to the other guy. It’s his funeral. Be known for better things than seppuku. Thirdly, we can’t forget the risk of contagion. You might think it’s all well and good to forge ahead with a leaking nose, aching head, exploding bowels and imploding lungs, but everyone else in a one kilometer radius deserves better. It does nobody any good to contract whatever debilitating disease you’re grappling with. If you want to serve your people, don’t make them sick. Simple. Keep your hands off your wife too, because the both of you hitting the wall at the same time - especially with kids in the picture - is a recipe for more melancholy than you can care to imagine.

And sometimes, we need to accept that there’s purpose or design in our ailment. We need to be sick right now, to stop and take stock, for a reason. Find out what that reason is. More than once in our lives, I’m convinced, we need to be brought down to the dirt and reminded of the tenuous hold we have over it all. We can’t do it all, or have it all, or be in control of it all. Hell, we shouldn’t want to because it isn’t good for us. Hence, the humility of a good beat down can be critical of helping us understand our place in the world and just how limited our means are. Not only that, but it brings us to a new appreciation of strength and good health when we have a taste of their counterparts.  So shut up. Lay down. Take a breather and be a better man for it. You won’t be the first or the last to need it or do it.