If we were all to chase every squirrel that comes running along

The words of Mike Lee carry the wisdom of discipline and the echo of ancient restraint: “If we were all to chase every squirrel that comes running along in the form of a personal dispute or a mischaracterization of someone, or someone’s integrity or intent, we’d be very busy doing that and not focusing on the government, on that which we need to reform internally.” His message is not merely about politics—it is about the human tendency to be distracted by noise, to abandon purpose for the pleasure of reaction. The “squirrel” he speaks of is the symbol of every fleeting distraction, every petty quarrel that pulls us away from the great and noble labor of reforming what truly matters.

In every age, societies have fallen not only because of their enemies, but because of their distractions. Great civilizations were not destroyed solely by war or corruption, but by the loss of focus—by leaders and citizens who preferred gossip to governance, spectacle to substance. Lee’s warning is a mirror for our own time, when the endless chatter of accusation and outrage fills the air, and men spend their energy defending their pride rather than improving their institutions. The true reformer must have the courage to ignore the squirrel—to keep his eyes fixed upon the higher task, even when lesser minds bait him with noise.

There is an ancient story from the days of Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-emperor of Rome. Surrounded by intrigue and constant attacks upon his character, Aurelius could have spent his reign silencing critics and defending his name. Yet instead, he wrote in his Meditations: “Waste no more time arguing about what a good man should be. Be one.” He understood what Mike Lee reminds us of today: that the pursuit of personal vindication is endless and empty, but the pursuit of inner reform—of self-discipline, of truth, of justice—is the only labor that endures. Integrity needs no defense; it proves itself in time.

In the realm of governance, this truth is even more vital. A republic cannot heal when its leaders are consumed with pettiness. When every word is taken as insult, every disagreement as treason, the machinery of reform grinds to a halt. True leadership requires focus, humility, and endurance. It means choosing not to react to every provocation, not because one is weak, but because one’s mission is too sacred to be derailed. The reformer’s task is like the craftsman’s—it demands steady hands, not trembling ones. If one stops his work every time the world shouts his name, the statue of justice will never be carved.

This wisdom also extends beyond politics—to every man and woman who seeks to build something of worth. In families, in businesses, in communities, there will always be “squirrels”—gossip, misunderstanding, envy. These distractions steal energy from creation and feed only resentment. Those who succeed are those who master the art of ignoring the trivial and returning, again and again, to their purpose. Like the blacksmith who keeps his eyes upon the iron, or the sailor who keeps his hand upon the helm through storm and rumor alike, the wise know that attention is sacred, and must not be scattered.

Mike Lee’s words also reveal a moral discipline often forgotten in the modern age: the call to self-reform before world-reform. He reminds us that before we can change the structure of government or society, we must change the spirit within ourselves. To reform “internally” means to seek integrity, patience, and clarity before demanding them of others. The noise of accusation outside often mirrors the unrest within. Thus, the truest act of reform is silence before provocation, reflection before response, and perseverance before praise.

The lesson is eternal: do not chase every squirrel that crosses your path. Every moment spent defending your image is a moment lost from building your legacy. The world will always throw distractions in your way—some born of malice, others of ignorance—but your duty is not to chase them. Your duty is to keep your gaze upon the mountain of your purpose. The wind will howl, the voices will mock, and the squirrels will dart before your feet—but keep walking.

Therefore, let this teaching take root: focus is the guardian of greatness. Resist the lure of petty disputes. Tend to your integrity and your mission with quiet strength. Whether you serve a nation or simply your own conscience, reform begins not with noise, but with purpose. For only those who master their attention can master their destiny—and only those who refuse to chase every passing distraction can truly reform the world within and beyond them.