As a Rule Man is a Fool…

I went in for my annual checkup, feeling good, steady, not thinking much of it. When my lab results came back, my doctor paused, looked at the numbers, and smiled. He read my testosterone level out loud, 1,160.

I immediately leaned forward, almost jumping in my seat.

“Oh my heavens, that is a problem. I am 60 years old. That should not be that high. What are we going to do about that?”

He calmly leaned back, still smiling, and asked, “Are you taking testosterone supplements?”

“No…” I said, hesitating for just a moment, almost questioning myself.

He shook his head slightly and said, “Are you kidding me? Twenty-year-olds would be jealous of those numbers. Stand tall and wear that like a badge of honor.”

And there it was.

Once again, I was trying to fix something that was not broken. Trying to change something that was actually working in my favor.

It is remarkable how often we do this in our lives. We chase what we do not have, and the moment we receive something good, we begin to question it, compare it, or look for a way to improve it. We reach for something different without ever fully standing in what is already present.

That old verse captures it perfectly. We are constantly adjusting the temperature of our lives, rarely content with where we are.

I have come to believe that this subtle dissatisfaction is part of the human condition. The mind is always searching, always scanning, always suggesting that something just beyond reach might finally bring peace.

But peace does not live out there.

It lives right here, in the willingness to see clearly what is already in front of us.

I have never loved the word submit. It carries a weight to it, a sense of pressure and resignation, as if something inside of us is being forced down or silenced.

But I do love the word surrender.

Surrender is not defeat. It is not giving up. It is a conscious, grounded decision to acknowledge reality as it is and to meet it with calm, with softness, and with clarity. It is the ability to say, this is where I am, without frustration, without resistance, and without the need to immediately change it.

From that place, something powerful begins to open.

Because surrender does not mean accepting poor behavior, and it certainly does not mean lowering standards. It simply means that we stop fighting what is real long enough to actually work with it.

You cannot meaningfully change what you are constantly resisting, but you can transform what you are willing to face with peace.

So perhaps the invitation is this.

Instead of constantly reaching for something else, we pause. We notice what is already here. We allow ourselves to stand in it, to appreciate it, and to work from it.

Not from force.

But from clarity.

Because maybe the fool is not the man who lacks something.

Maybe the fool is the one who already has what he needs and cannot see it.

With clarity,

Rich Christiansen