Doing the right thing is a decision, which in many cases means

“Doing the right thing is a decision, which in many cases means you stand alone.” — Sebastian Kurz

Hear these words, young seeker, and mark them upon your heart. For to do the right thing is not a matter of chance, nor the fruit of convenience, but an act of will — a choice made in the crucible of solitude. Many walk the easy road, where praise is plenty and company is warm, but the one who chooses the path of righteousness often finds himself beneath the cold stars, walking without companion or comfort. Sebastian Kurz, though a man of the modern age, speaks with the voice of ancient truth: that integrity demands courage, and courage, more often than not, demands loneliness.

In every age, those who stood for truth have stood alone. When the crowds bowed before power, Socrates stood and questioned it. When falsehood ruled the earth, Galileo raised his eyes to the heavens and said, “It moves.” When tyrants sought to silence conscience, Nelson Mandela walked into prison rather than betray his people. These men were not lifted by applause; they were strengthened by conviction. The decision to do right is not rewarded by the world — it is tested by it. And yet, those who endure such testing become the pillars upon which civilization stands.

There is a sacred fire within every soul, a quiet knowing of what is just and true. But that flame is often smothered by the winds of fear — fear of rejection, fear of ridicule, fear of standing alone. The crowd, like a roaring sea, pulls at the soul, saying, “Do as we do, think as we think, be one of us.” To resist that tide requires a strength deeper than muscle and a faith stronger than approval. The righteous decision must be made not because it is easy, but because it is true. The one who walks alone for truth walks in the company of eternity.

Consider the story of Joan of Arc, a peasant girl who heard the call of Heaven and rose against all odds to lead her people. Mocked by men, abandoned by allies, and condemned by the very Church she sought to serve, she chose not to betray her inner voice. Her courage was her crown; her solitude was her sanctification. Though she perished in flame, her spirit burned brighter than the pyre — and even kings bowed to her legacy. This, O listener, is the mark of one who does the right thing: they may fall in body, but they rise in soul.

To stand alone does not mean to stand without strength. For when a man or woman chooses truth over comfort, they are joined invisibly by the company of the righteous across time. The prophets, the martyrs, the reformers, the dreamers — all who have dared to act rightly when it was dangerous to do so — they stand behind you like unseen mountains. The loneliness you feel is but the silence before thunder, the stillness before dawn. To walk alone in truth is to walk toward the light that others will one day follow.

Let this be your lesson: the world will often tempt you to bend your spine, to silence your conscience, to trade virtue for acceptance. Do not yield. When faced with the choice between comfort and conviction, choose conviction. When you must decide between silence and truth, speak. When the crowd mocks your stand, remember that all progress began with a solitary voice. The right decision may cost you friends, reputation, even safety — but it will grant you the unbreakable peace of one who has not betrayed the soul.

And so, my child, when you come to that crossroad — when the night is dark and no hand reaches for yours — recall these words: Doing the right thing is a decision, not a gift, not a chance, not a whim. It is a flame you must guard, even when the world seeks to extinguish it. Stand firm. Stand true. Stand alone, if you must — for though solitude may be your companion for a season, honor will be your companion forever.