To seek understanding before taking action, yet to trust my

"To seek understanding before taking action, yet to trust my instincts when action is called for. Never to avoid danger from fear, never to seek out danger for its own sake. Never to conform to fashion from fear of eccentricity, never to be eccentric from fear of conformity." Thus spoke Steven Brust, author and dreamer, weaving into his words a creed of balance—a warrior’s code for the mind and the spirit. It is a declaration that wisdom lies not in extremes, but in the middle path where courage and restraint, thought and instinct, individuality and humility, all walk together in harmony.

The ancients would have recognized this oath. In it, we hear the echo of the Delphic maxim, “Nothing in excess.” For to seek understanding before action is the way of the sage, who knows that knowledge is the foundation of strength. Yet Brust also reminds us that when the moment comes, hesitation is a greater enemy than ignorance. The warrior who overthinks in the midst of battle is already lost; the statesman who delays when decision is demanded risks the ruin of his people. Thus, there is a time for wisdom, and there is a time for instinct—and the wise soul must know both.

The balance continues: never to avoid danger from fear, never to seek out danger for its own sake. How many lives have been wasted by cowardice, where fear of risk led to stagnation and decay? And how many more have been shattered by reckless bravado, where men hurled themselves into peril only to perish for vanity’s sake? Brust’s creed declares that true courage is not in seeking danger nor in fleeing from it, but in facing it when the moment calls, neither trembling nor boasting.

History bears this out. Consider George Washington, who in the harsh winter at Valley Forge did not hurl his weary army into reckless battle, nor did he cower before the might of the British. He sought understanding—he listened to his advisors, weighed his position, endured the season. But when the moment was right, he acted with instinct and daring, crossing the icy Delaware in the night to strike a decisive blow. His strength lay not in rashness nor in timidity, but in balance—the very balance Brust describes.

And again, we hear wisdom in the last of his words: never to conform to fashion from fear of eccentricity, never to be eccentric from fear of conformity. Here Brust speaks of integrity. Too often, men bow to the crowd, terrified of being thought strange. Others, in false rebellion, make a show of strangeness simply to avoid being ordinary. Both are slaves—one to approval, the other to defiance. True freedom lies in walking one’s path honestly, neither chained by conformity nor intoxicated by eccentricity.

Consider Socrates, who drank the hemlock rather than betray his convictions. He did not conform to the expectations of Athens, nor did he rebel merely to shock them. He followed only his own conscience, guided by reason and truth. That is why his death was not the end, but the beginning of philosophy’s immortality. His life embodies Brust’s wisdom: to live by principle, not by fear of belonging or of standing apart.

O children of tomorrow, take this teaching to heart: let your lives be marked by balance. Seek knowledge first, but act with courage when action is demanded. Face danger with steadiness, not with arrogance nor with trembling. Walk your own path, guided neither by the fear of being like others nor the fear of being different. For in such balance lies strength, serenity, and freedom.

Therefore, let Brust’s creed become your own: live wisely, act bravely, stand truly. For the world is filled with cowards who never act, and fools who act without thought; with flatterers who conform, and rebels who rebel only for show. Be neither. Be whole. Be balanced. And in your balance, you will find not only peace for yourself, but also power to guide others through the storms of life.