Of Standing Men

An old man sits at a prison table, behind bars, under heavy guard. His worn blue eyes are pensive, thoughtfully fixed on the man standing opposite. This man, younger but not quite young, wears a look of intense worry. He seems burdened with some momentous weight.

But, the old man is speaking, telling a story. He tells the younger man that he reminds him of a friend of his father's, who used to come around when the old man was a boy. This friend of his father's, he said, was pointed out to him by his father, who told him, as a young boy, to watch that man. For twenty years his father's friend had done nothing at all remarkable. Yet still his father said, 'watch that man'. So the boy watched him. And one night, their house was overrun with border guards.

In the old man's words, 'This man, my father's friend was beaten. Every time they hit him, he stood back up again. So they hit him harder. Still he got back up to his feet. I think because of that they let him live.'

The younger man's brow furrows in confusion. 'And I remind you of this man?'

Nodding slowly, the old man replies, 'Standing man.' His eyes unfocus, reaching deep into the past. 'Standing man'.

Now, lest you think that I concocted this all in my own brain...I assure you it was all from Spielberg's latest film, Bridge of Spies. The old man is an alleged Soviet spy, while the younger man is his lawyer. Originally arranged as a farce of a trial for positive PR, it turns into far more when an American spy is captured by the Soviets and the task of exchanging the two falls to the old man's lawyer.

And....I must admit, I've always been in love with the idea of a standing man. I just didn't have the words for it until now. It takes a certain kind of strength - a different level of courage - to stand back up, repeatedly, undauntedly, knowing that you will only be knocked down again and harder.

But what makes a 'standing man'? 

I've been puzzling over it all day, and I think I finally understand.

What makes him remarkable is that...he wasn't a hero. His whole life was spent standing quietly in the shadows. He wasn't some grand person. He had done 'nothing remarkable for 20 years'. And yet, when the time came, when it really mattered - he alone stood.

If he had been a hero, then it wouldn't have been remarkable. If he had been known for deeds of greatness.....But the courage of ordinary men....

See, one does not always have to be great to do great things, or to inspire others. One does not have to be a hero all the time. One simply has to stand back up, over and over and over again. To quietly stand. To never give in, never give up, never bow, never surrender. 

'I think it was because of that that they let him live'. 

And here we come to the deepest reason that I can't let go of this concept. Because I want so desperately to believe that if I don't bow, if I get back up again and again and again, even though it seems that every single time I do, I am knocked down harder and more violently than before, that perhaps, someday, the darkness might let me live. 

But, in the meantime....?

I stand.