Churchill's Wisdom Can Keep Us From Our Dark Imagination
- stephaniewilson
- Aug 13, 2024
- 5 min read

After coming out of a recent period of worry and anxiety — a lovely, occasional tradition of mine — I looked online for that old quote we all know from Winston Churchill about not giving up. I’ve used it many times throughout my life as it was one of my dad’s favorites.
I’m sure I’ve read the speech in which this quote sits, but it’s hard to recall. This time when I read it, I was shocked to discover something that might be subtle to some readers but for me, it jumped from the page.
Churchill gave a speech to his boarding school alma mater, the Harrow School, in 1941 after England had emerged from the Blitz months before. In it, he talks about never giving up even when things are tough. But at one point he says this.
“You cannot tell from appearances how things will go. Sometimes imagination makes things out far worse than they are; yet without imagination, not much can be done. Those people who are imaginative see many more dangers than perhaps exist, certainly many more than will happen; but then they must also pray to be given that extra courage to carry this far-reaching imagination.”
Interestingly, this sits square in my ADHD coaching wheelhouse and is exactly what one of my loved ones and I discovered these past few weeks. I was thrilled to see Winston Churchill knew exactly what I know about the brain. But, of course, he did. These things we all know after we’ve lived through them and emerged from them enough times. It’s the patterns of life that cause us to begin to understand, and then predict, how the world works.
My loved one was struggling with anxiety and excessive worry over a highly unlikely medical issue. I developed anxiety because I was worried about her. Together we walked, talked, tried various solutions, regrouped, swapped notes, and shared strategies. Through it all, I shared what I know about the brain and how it can be so easy to let our imagination run away with our good sense. It’s known as the brain’s default mode network, something Ned Hallowell, a major voice in the ADHD field, calls the Angel and the Demon. Notice how Churchill described imagination in this way, too — not much can be accomplished in the world without imaginative wondering, but plenty of stress is born when this wondering dives deep into “what if?”
And this is how it was. My loved one let her imagination run away with the show, waving the flag of danger high above her head with utter certainty that the future was set. My anxiety ran away with the fear that my loved one would never emerge from this imagined danger. Our anxiety was based on an assumed truth and it was here to stay.
It’s not random that I chose Churchill’s quote as a backdrop for dealing with anxiety. When we confront difficult periods in our lives, it feels like nothing other than a battle. These times are our own Blitzkrieg. I’ve learned over the years, that to make our way through them, we are wise to follow Churchill’s advice, which is based on what England did for eight months between 1940 and 1941 — never give in.
I don’t mean to say that to get through tough times, we must act like someone on the front lines taking hit after hit. Instead, I’m so drawn to what England knew and what researchers have learned over time about how we succeed in life — we get back up on the horse. This is so simple yet so hard, and so easy to understand yet just as easy to forget. It’s what Churchill thought was so important to tell those young students at his alma mater. Don’t give up.
I learned this during a particularly difficult 100-mile trail run, and years earlier trying to get my preemie newborn to learn to breastfeed, and before that weathering a best friend break-up in adolescence. Every day I got back up on the horse. I didn’t let my negative thoughts get the best of me even though my mind was filled to the brim with them. I ran the race, taught my baby to nurse, and mourned the loss of a friend while filled with doubt. I never thought I could keep going. That thought never left me. I’m a skilled and brilliant fatalist. But I also never gave up. The wildest discovery I’ve made in my life is the two can coexist. I can’t imagine England was having a joy fest as it battled every day for those eight months eighty years ago. But they survived the horror.
This doesn’t mean we do nothing about the mental horrors we grapple with — or imagination, as Churchill says. The imperative piece here is to learn what to do to cope while not giving up — easy to say, hard to do, but doable. England won, after all.
Much academic attention has been given to the concept of grit over the last decade. I like the idea, but I have a wider definition of it, which might be a good thing since the concept as the key to success has been called into question lately.
I notice how the journey from where we don’t want to be to where we do, involves persistence, yes, but this persistence I see from many angles. I think we get to where we want to be by flexibly not giving in. England had little choice about whether it was going to survive the enemy attack — it had to do it or else. But a battle has many options and which one we choose depends on what is needed. We either respond to what’s in front of us or employ trial and error — an experiment as I tell my coaching clients — but we don’t throw in the towel. We pivot like there’s no tomorrow. It’s much easier to persist if the conditions are right.
To me, learning to pivot is what provides forward momentum. We might pivot to a rest period, but then we resume. Perseverance is knowing that a period of rest or reset is not giving up. Never giving in, I find, is more about a slow breath in and a slow exhale than about a gritting of the teeth.
We might pivot to a change in plans or a new process. We might pivot toward new learning and insight which can make it seem like the goal is changed or shifted — or worse, dead — but it isn’t. The goal was to move forward in life, not to attain an idea set in stone forever until the end of time.
People have many needs throughout their lifespan — namely, community, acceptance by that community, purpose, clarity, enough confidence to stay in the game, and balance. And we need to follow through — somehow, even just a little bit, gradually, on repeat.
This is what my loved one and I did these past few weeks. It was never smooth sailing. Instead, there was consistent pivoting to the next idea to try. There was also acknowledgment of what worked and that we’d done the work. There were some fist bumps in there for sure. I’m very pro fist bump. You must celebrate, even a little, when you wake up and realize you stuck it out through various approaches and learned something. That’s what pulled us out of our funk, and now we’re back to business as usual, happier and wiser. I’m so grateful we didn’t give in.
Have a nice week, all.
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