Do All The Good You Can John Wesley

Okay, let's talk about a certain old-school preacher named John Wesley. You might have heard of him. He’s the guy who, centuries ago, apparently dropped a real mic-drop of a life motto: "Do all the good you can." Sounds simple, right? Like, “Eat your vegetables!” or “Don’t leave the toilet seat up!” But it’s also… a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

Imagine this: you’re just trying to get through your Tuesday. You’ve wrestled with the toaster, successfully navigated rush hour (or at least survived it), and maybe even managed to remember to put on matching socks. Then, BAM! You remember John Wesley’s marching orders. “Do all the good you can.” Suddenly, that extra biscuit you were eyeing feels a bit… problematic. Is eating that biscuit truly doing all the good I can? Maybe I should have given it to the squirrel outside? But what if the squirrel doesn't want a biscuit? This is where it gets complicated, people.

Here’s my totally unpopular opinion: I think John Wesley might have been a little too good. I mean, was he ever just chilling? Like, really chilling? Was there a moment where he thought, “You know what? Today, I’m just going to do… some good. A moderate amount. Perhaps a medium-sized good. A good that fits comfortably within my pre-existing schedule and doesn't require me to spontaneously adopt stray kittens or build a shelter for disillusioned pigeons.”

It's like being told to "clean your room" when you're five. You could organize every single Lego by color and size, but let's be honest, sometimes a swift shove under the bed is considered an advanced organizational technique. John Wesley, I suspect, would have been horrified by the Lego-under-the-bed strategy.

Think about it. "Do all the good you can." This isn't just about donating a few bucks to a charity (though, that's lovely, and I do that!). This is a full-on, 24/7, "be a superhero without the cape (because capes are impractical for good-doing)" kind of deal. It means never sighing when someone asks you for directions, even if you’re desperately late. It means always having a kind word, even if your internal monologue is screaming about the injustices of lukewarm coffee. It means finding the silver lining in traffic jams, which, let’s face it, is harder than winning the lottery.

And what about naps? Is napping an act of good? I argue it can be! A well-rested person is often a kinder, more patient, and generally less grumpy person. So, by taking that glorious 20-minute power nap, am I not indirectly contributing to the global good by reducing the number of potential snarls and grumbles I might unleash upon the world? I think so. John Wesley, I’m sure, would have a thoughtful, yet probably disapproving, response to that.

My suspicion is that the phrase "do all the good you can" sounds great on paper, like a motivational poster you’d see in a very earnest office. But in real life? It’s exhausting. It's like a perpetual to-do list that keeps adding items. You help one person, and then you see ten more who need help. You can’t possibly get to all of them, can you?

Perhaps John Wesley lived in a world where "doing all the good you can" was more manageable. Maybe the internet hadn't invented endless streams of sad news and opportunities to donate. Or maybe he just had a higher caffeine intake than I do. Who’s to say?

But here’s where I’m going to be a bit rebellious. I believe there’s also a form of good in taking a breath. In recognizing that we are flawed, tired humans. In accepting that sometimes, “good enough” is, well, good enough. Maybe the truly good thing is to do what we can, within our own limits, without burning ourselves out to a crisp.

What if the secret to doing good isn't about all the good, but about your good? The good that you can genuinely, sustainably offer without feeling like you’re failing every single second of the day. It’s about being kind to yourself, too. Because a person who is constantly beating themselves up for not doing enough good probably isn't radiating a whole lot of good energy, are they?

So, while I admire John Wesley’s intention, I’m going to propose a slightly revised version. How about: "Do good when you can, and be kind to yourself when you can't." Or, "Do the good you can, without sacrificing your sanity or your biscuit." It feels a lot more… achievable. And let’s be honest, a little more fun. After all, a happy, well-rested person can probably do a lot more actual good than someone who's stressed and burnt out. So, maybe my nap was a good deed after all. Just a thought.

And if you're feeling a little guilty right now, just remember: even John Wesley probably needed a cup of tea and a moment to himself sometimes. Right?