I am sad to break the news to you, but I am not Chuck Norris. My beard is not as red, my roundhouse is not as devastating, and I can’t pull off the Texas Ranger cowboy hat and denim shirt. In fact I don’t even know karate or anyone on Delta Force, and the only time the Boogie man would be afraid to find me is if he’s hording Guinness.
In the Denzel Washington thriller, The Bone Collector, a maniac serial killer kidnaps no fewer than five people in order to exact his revenge on Lincoln Reimes (Washington) who was instrumental in the killers’ incarceration six years prior. As I watched each victims abduction I arrogantly mused that it would take, “a lot more than that to kidnap me.” I mean, I consider myself pretty smart and reasonably tough. But then I wondered how much of that is reality and how much is self image and construction of the mind?
The Mighty Mighty Bosstones in their 1993 album “Let’s Face It,” have captured the essence of my deliberation in the song, “The Impression that I Get.”
I'm not a coward, I've just never been tested.I'd like to think that if I was I would pass.Look at the tested, and think there but for the grace go I.Might be a coward, I'm afraid of what I might find out.
This, in essence, is the crux of my reflection.
I have seen nearly every classic action movie from 1986 to present, and somewhere in the back of my head I’ve decided (completely irrationally) that I’m as tough as Chuck Norris, Lawrence Fishburn, Sylvester Stallone, Samuel L. Jackson, or Jet Li.
What? Reality check.
Watching Mr. Miyagi teach Daniel karate does not mean I know Karate any more than reading about climbing Mt. Everest means I’ve stood atop the world’s greatest wonder.
What is it that drives people to want to prove their toughness? Whether to themselves or others – we all want to be respected for our prowess in some area of our life. Whether you are an academic who seeks mental toughness; a parent who wishes to protect their child; a soldier whose toughness means life or death; or simply a one who wishes to be able to protect the ones you love – we all want to be tough.
This desire to be tough – at least in my experience – seems to stem from a fear of loss. We want to be tough enough to protect the things that we love. The investor wishes to protect their assets to provide financial security; the soldier struggles to protect the family and country that they leave behind when deployed to foreign soil; the firefighter protects homes because they would want someone to try and save their home if the role were reversed. Our toughness, it might be said, is rooted in love.
There is an old story about a guy who I think is tougher than all of the heroes of the Greeks, Romans, or any other civilization ancient or contemporary. He was not a warrior, but a teacher. He was not a street fighter, tactician, or spy. As far as anyone knows, He never delivered one angry blow. In His life, however, He suffered unjust humiliation, torture, and execution. He did all of this to prove a point. This skinny Jewish carpenter who wielded more power
In the Denzel Washington thriller, The Bone Collector, a maniac serial killer kidnaps no fewer than five people in order to exact his revenge on Lincoln Reimes (Washington) who was instrumental in the killers’ incarceration six years prior. As I watched each victims abduction I arrogantly mused that it would take, “a lot more than that to kidnap me.” I mean, I consider myself pretty smart and reasonably tough. But then I wondered how much of that is reality and how much is self image and construction of the mind?
The Mighty Mighty Bosstones in their 1993 album “Let’s Face It,” have captured the essence of my deliberation in the song, “The Impression that I Get.”
I'm not a coward, I've just never been tested.I'd like to think that if I was I would pass.Look at the tested, and think there but for the grace go I.Might be a coward, I'm afraid of what I might find out.
This, in essence, is the crux of my reflection.
I have seen nearly every classic action movie from 1986 to present, and somewhere in the back of my head I’ve decided (completely irrationally) that I’m as tough as Chuck Norris, Lawrence Fishburn, Sylvester Stallone, Samuel L. Jackson, or Jet Li.
What? Reality check.
Watching Mr. Miyagi teach Daniel karate does not mean I know Karate any more than reading about climbing Mt. Everest means I’ve stood atop the world’s greatest wonder.
What is it that drives people to want to prove their toughness? Whether to themselves or others – we all want to be respected for our prowess in some area of our life. Whether you are an academic who seeks mental toughness; a parent who wishes to protect their child; a soldier whose toughness means life or death; or simply a one who wishes to be able to protect the ones you love – we all want to be tough.
This desire to be tough – at least in my experience – seems to stem from a fear of loss. We want to be tough enough to protect the things that we love. The investor wishes to protect their assets to provide financial security; the soldier struggles to protect the family and country that they leave behind when deployed to foreign soil; the firefighter protects homes because they would want someone to try and save their home if the role were reversed. Our toughness, it might be said, is rooted in love.
There is an old story about a guy who I think is tougher than all of the heroes of the Greeks, Romans, or any other civilization ancient or contemporary. He was not a warrior, but a teacher. He was not a street fighter, tactician, or spy. As far as anyone knows, He never delivered one angry blow. In His life, however, He suffered unjust humiliation, torture, and execution. He did all of this to prove a point. This skinny Jewish carpenter who wielded more power
than any other human being before or since – chose to teach us about toughness rooted in love. Through His life and death He taught us how to live. And He did it all, so as not to loose us, the ones he loves.
Even Chuck Norris would say that’s tough.
Even Chuck Norris would say that’s tough.
Not that I want to get in the habit of posting a comment on everything you blog about...but its too interesting. I really enjoyed the thoughts, although I was disappointed that you are not really Chuck Norris. My faith has been irretrievably broken.
ReplyDeleteAs I was reading your thoughts about toughness, I kept thinking back to a recent appellate murder case I was working on, where the idea of being "tough" on the street seemed so important to the actors involved. Obviously that toughness, if we qualify it as such, was not rooted in love. So...either the behavior has to be rooted in love to be true toughness, or, the only toughness worth having is toughness rooted in the love you discuss. And maybe those two are the same. Great thoughts again, just great stuff to have the mind chew on, thanks for sharing.
There's an old Roman story about a boy, the son of a legate, who is captured by the enemy and they threaten to torture him until he tells them where his father's army is and how many men are in it. The boy walks over to a fire and thrusts his arm into it and holds it there, gritting his teeth but not crying out, until the flesh melts away. The point: There is nothing they could do to him that would be worse than he chose to do to himself - torture would get them nothing.
ReplyDeleteIf the boy were being played by Chuck Norris, he would have kicked the whole enemy army's collective ass. But which is more real? Which is truly tough?
Toughness is not about capability, it's about frame of mind. It is about being able to take pain, not inflict it. Chuck Norris et al are capable, and their charactes probably are tough, but ultimately a scrawny kid who thrusts his hand into the fire, grim-faced, to make a wordless point is probably tougher.