Life only demands from you the strength that you possess. Only

Dag Hammarskjöld, the noble Secretary-General who bore the burdens of a fractured world, gave us words that shine like steel tempered in fire: “Life only demands from you the strength that you possess. Only one feat is possible; not to run away.” In this declaration lies a profound comfort and an unshakable challenge. For life does not demand of us what we cannot give—it asks only that we face it with what is already within us. The task is not to be invincible, nor to carry the strength of giants, but simply to remain, to endure, to stand firm and not flee when trial presses in.

The ancients knew this truth well. The Stoics declared that Providence gives no man a burden beyond his capacity to bear, though at times it feels otherwise. Epictetus taught that the true measure of a man is not in avoiding hardship, but in enduring it with dignity. Hammarskjöld, walking the path of statesmanship in an age of Cold War tension, echoed their wisdom: you are not asked to be more than yourself, only to be steadfast. The feat demanded of you is singular—not flight, but faithfulness.

History gives us a blazing example in the life of Winston Churchill. When Britain stood alone against the shadow of Nazi conquest, he did not promise easy victory, nor did he claim to have unlimited strength. Instead, he called upon his people to endure, to stand, to fight. Britain’s survival was not the work of superhuman power, but of ordinary men and women refusing to run away. They bore the strength they had, and it was enough. Their courage proved Hammarskjöld’s truth: life asks not for infinite strength, but for refusal to surrender.

Consider also the story of Anne Frank. Hidden away, hunted, surrounded by despair, she possessed no armies, no great power. Yet she did not run away within her spirit. Her diary reveals a heart that faced darkness with courage, a young girl who wrote of hope, even when surrounded by terror. Life demanded of her only what she could give: honesty, resilience, and the light of a soul unbroken. Her words endure because she did not flee inwardly, even when outward escape was impossible.

To not run away is the essence of heroism. Flight may promise safety, but it leaves the spirit hollow. Endurance, however, gives the soul its strength, and strength gives rise to meaning. Many dream of impossible feats, of greatness beyond reach, and despair when they fail. Yet Hammarskjöld reminds us that the only true feat is to stand, to remain, to give what you can without surrender. This is the wisdom of the ancients, clothed in modern words: the battle is not to be more than human, but to be wholly human and not to flee.

This teaching is also profoundly merciful. For it tells us that we need not compare ourselves to others, nor despair at the weight of trials. You are asked only for your strength, not another’s. Life’s demands are matched to your capacity; the question is not whether you can carry the whole mountain, but whether you will bear your own portion without fleeing. Courage is not the absence of weakness, but the refusal to abandon the field.

The lesson is clear: when life confronts you with hardship, do not look for escape. Do not despair at your insufficiency, nor dream of a strength beyond your reach. Instead, remember Hammarskjöld’s wisdom—give the strength you possess, and that alone is enough. Stand firm, remain faithful, and do not run away. In this, you will have achieved the only feat required of man: to endure the trials of life without surrendering your soul.

Practical action flows from this truth: each day, when trials rise, ask not “Am I strong enough for all things?” but “Am I willing to face today with the strength I have?” Do not compare your burden to another’s, nor flee from the weight that is yours. Meet hardship with courage, however small, and take one step, then another. For as Dag Hammarskjöld teaches, life demands only what you already possess, and its greatest command is this: never run away.