To Strive To Seek To Find And Not To Yield

There's this saying, right? It goes something like, "To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield." It sounds super heroic, like something a knight would mutter before slaying a dragon. Or maybe a seasoned explorer on a quest for a lost treasure.

And, I get it. It’s got that epic ring to it. It’s all about ambition and never giving up. It’s the kind of motto that gets plastered on motivational posters with eagles soaring over mountains.

But, and this is where I might get myself into trouble, I have an, shall we say, unpopular opinion about this whole "not to yield" business. Maybe it's just me.

Let's break it down. "To strive" – yes, absolutely. Who doesn't want to put in effort? We strive to make a decent cup of coffee in the morning. We strive to remember where we left our keys. It's a good start.

Then comes "to seek." This is also pretty reasonable. We seek out the best pizza place in town. We seek that elusive remote control that seems to have developed sentience and hidden itself. Seeking is part of the adventure.

And then, "to find." Hooray! We found the pizza. We found the remote. This is the sweet reward for all our striving and seeking. It feels pretty good, doesn't it? A little victory dance is often warranted.

But then we hit the final frontier: "And not to yield." Ah, yes. The stubborn part. The part that implies we must push forward, no matter what, until our dying breath. Or at least until the pizza gets cold.

Here’s my heresy. Sometimes, yielding is the smartest, most sensible thing you can do. Think about it. You're striving to build a birdhouse. You're seeking the perfect piece of wood. You find a knotty, warped piece.

If you refuse to yield, you're going to spend hours wrestling with that terrible wood. Your nails will bend. Your hammer will probably get stuck. And the end result? A lopsided, wobbly birdhouse that even the bravest robin would eye with suspicion.

Wouldn't it be better, in that moment, to yield? To put down the warped wood and seek a better piece? To yield to the reality that this particular piece of lumber is not cooperating with your birdhouse dreams?

It’s not about being a quitter. It’s about being a smart quitter. Sometimes, you have to yield to a situation, not because you're weak, but because you're wise. It's about recognizing when you're banging your head against a metaphorical (or literal) wall.

Consider the great inventors. Did Thomas Edison yield after the first attempt at the lightbulb? No. But did he spend forever trying to make a lightbulb out of, say, a banana? Probably not. He likely yielded on the banana idea.

He probably said something like, "Well, this banana idea isn't quite illuminating the room. Let's try something else!" That’s not yielding in defeat; it’s yielding to a better path. It’s strategic yielding.

My grandma, bless her stubborn heart, had a garden. She strove to grow the most perfect tomatoes. She sought the sunniest spot. She found a patch that seemed ideal.

But one year, a pesky blight hit. Her tomato plants looked like they'd seen better days. She could have raged against the blight, refusing to yield. She could have spent her days spraying questionable concoctions.

Instead, she yielded. She said, "Okay, blight, you win this round." She pulled up the sad tomato plants and planted something else. Something that could thrive in that year's conditions. She yielded, and the next year, her garden was back with a vengeance.

This "not to yield" mantra often feels like pressure to be a relentless machine. But humans aren't machines. We get tired. We get discouraged. We have off days. And that's okay.

Sometimes, yielding means taking a break. It means stepping back, regrouping, and coming back with fresh eyes. It's like pausing a video game to grab a snack. You're not giving up; you're strategizing your next move.

Imagine you're trying to assemble some ridiculously complicated piece of furniture. You've strived. You've sought. You've found... a pile of confusing parts and an instruction manual written in hieroglyphics.

If you refuse to yield, you might end up with a coffee table that doubles as abstract art. Or worse, a bookshelf that leans like the Tower of Pisa.

Wouldn't it be more efficient to yield to the fact that maybe, just maybe, you need to ask for help? Or to yield to the idea that you need a nap and a fresh perspective? That’s not failure; that’s smart problem-solving.

The world is full of things that just won't budge. Trying to force them is often a recipe for frustration. Learning to yield gracefully is a superpower. It's knowing when to conserve your energy.

It's about choosing your battles. If your dream is to fly to the moon on a pogo stick, you might need to yield on the pogo stick part. No matter how much you strive or seek, that particular mode of transport is likely to end in a rather abrupt landing.

So, by all means, let's strive. Let's seek. Let's find. Those are the exciting parts! But when it comes to "not to yield," I propose a little flexibility. A little strategic surrender.

Let’s yield when it makes sense. Let’s yield to better ideas, to different paths, to our own well-being. It’s not about giving up on our dreams; it’s about finding a smarter, less painful way to get there. Or maybe to a different, even better dream.

So next time you find yourself stubbornly pushing against a brick wall, just remember: sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is yield. And then maybe find a door. Or a window. Or just go get that pizza. That’s a worthy quest, if you ask me.

It’s about being persistent, yes, but also being pragmatic. Like a river that flows around a boulder instead of trying to smash through it. The river still reaches the sea.

I think Alfred Tennyson, who wrote that famous line, might have even chuckled at some of our modern interpretations. He probably meant a noble, epic struggle. Not the daily grind of trying to connect to the Wi-Fi.

So, go forth and strive, seek, and find. But if you find yourself stuck, don't be afraid to yield. It's not a sign of weakness; it's a sign of intelligence. And sometimes, it’s just plain common sense.

"To strive, to seek, to find... and maybe grab a snack before yielding."