What a Fool Believes: The Illusion of Holding On
Monday Reps & Reflections, Vol. 1: Inspired by The Doobie Brothers – “What a Fool Believes”
I walked into JD Gym that early Sunday morning with my hoodie still up and the weight of the week already on my shoulders. I wasn’t just here to train my chest - I was trying to unclench my soul.
The air smelled like iron, ambition, and cheap cologne.
I tapped my water bottle, nodded at the regulars, and slid under the bar.
Then it happened.
That unmistakable keyboard intro drifted through the gym speakers like incense:
“What a fool believes, he sees…”
And right there, between incline presses and exhale pauses, something holy stirred.
Not in the sweat or the reps - but in the song.
Suddenly, I wasn’t lifting weights anymore.
I was lifting memories.
The Heart: Visionary, Daydreamer… Deceiver
We’ve all been there - clutching onto something long expired: a relationship that once felt like home but turned into a haunted house, a friendship grown quiet and lopsided, a version of ourselves we’ve long since outgrown.
We don’t let go because we’re foolish.
We don’t let go because we believed.
Believed in the love.
Believed in the storyline.
Believed in the ending we thought we were promised.
But belief without truth becomes illusion. And illusion - when coddled - turns to bondage.
“Do not say, ‘Why were the old days better than these?’ For it is not wise to ask such questions.”
(Ecclesiastes 7:10)
And then there’s Jeremiah, cutting deeper still:
“The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked; who can know it?”
(Jeremiah 17:9)
I remember reading that verse one morning after a rough week. I had been trusting my heart to lead me out of a mess it had, ironically, walked me into. That scripture didn’t come to condemn - it came to reveal. The heart wasn’t lying to me maliciously… it was just homesick. Homesick for something that never really existed.
Sometimes, our hearts are visionary architects of castles in the clouds.
But clouds don’t carry weight.
And castles built on nostalgia collapse under truth.
The Irony of Holding On
Here’s the wild thing:
What we hold onto… holds us back.
There’s a guy at JD I’ve seen for years - same bench, same weights, same playlist. We’ve nodded at each other for months. One day I asked him, “Ever change your routine?”
He shrugged.
“Why fix what ain’t broke?”
I almost said it:
It’s not broken. It’s just not growing.
And that’s the irony, isn’t it?
We think we’re protecting something precious.
But sometimes, we’re just preserving something dead.
Muscles Grow When We Let Go
Every gain in life - muscle, wisdom, faith, freedom - begins with letting go.
We tear the muscle first, so it can rebuild stronger.
We lay down pride, so we can rise in purpose.
We release the illusion, so we can embrace the truth.
Letting go is like unclenching your fist after holding sand too tight.
The tighter you grip, the faster it slips - and the more damage you do to your own hand.
But open that fist… and you might just catch the wind of something new.
Sometimes God sends a word through a prophet.
Sometimes through pain.
And sometimes… through a 1978 yacht rock classic playing between sets at JD Gym.
A Whisper for the Week
Look - I don’t know what you’re holding onto.
Maybe it’s a “her.”
Maybe it’s a dream that expired while you weren’t looking.
Maybe it’s shame dressed up as nostalgia.
Or a grudge you keep warm in the pocket of your soul.
But hear me:
God cannot resurrect what you refuse to bury.
This Week’s Takeaway
Some things are heavy because they’re meant to be carried.
But some things are heavy because they’re meant to be released.
Only the wise know the difference.
This Monday - be wise.
Let go, not because it’s weak - but because your strength is needed for what’s next.
The future is heavier than the past.
You’ll need both hands free to lift it.
