Fractured Hand, Revolutionary Heart
How one impulsive moment led to self-reflection, critical thinking, and Erich Fromm’s vision of hope and love
I’ve been seeing a therapist for a while now, talking through the usual suspects: family, childhood, my tendency to avoid deeper conversations, and that annoying habit of avoiding emotions. It’s amusing how these things sit in the back of your mind, gently simmering until one day, they overflow into something you never expected.
One night, I was lying on my bed, feeling that all-too-familiar anxious buzz pulsating through my chest. My thoughts were racing: past conflicts, unmet expectations, unaddressed fears, the usual mental mess. I felt my heart pounding, and my breath quickening. I stood up and walked toward a cedar chest. My fist was clenched, and I swung—punching it hard.
I stared at my shaking hand, wondering what on earth I’d just done. I realized I was in trouble when my fifth metacarpal felt like putty. It was around 10 p.m., and I had work the next day. In a bit of a panic, I popped nine ibuprofen over the next hour and a half, wrapped my hand in ice, and somehow managed to find sleep.
My hand throbbed with pain the next morning, and I had a 10-hour workday ahead. I improvised a splint for my pinky and ring finger with an Ace wrap bandage. I powered through until the pain became loud enough to drown out my pride. I found my way to an ortho urgent care after eight hours on the clock. It was fractured severely enough to need surgery. An impulsive moment of frustration—one that neatly illustrated the emotional baggage my therapist and I had been discussing all along.
We carry so much inside—years of emotional build-up—that sometimes spills out in the unhealthiest ways. This isn’t unique to me; most of us have these swirling internal storms. Yet we participate in big societal decisions—voting, picking sides, and shouting opinions—often without taking the time to understand who we are underneath all that baggage.
We scroll through biased news feeds—doomscrolling every doom-and-gloom headline—searching for something that reaffirms what we already believe. Then we say, “See? I told you I was right,” which only strengthens the echo chamber around us. This cycle of feeding our biases is like a rebellion fueled by opposition and anger. But it’s reactionary. It’s easy to be rebellious in that sense: just be pissed off, reactive, and press post.
In his essay collection On Disobedience, Erich Fromm flips this idea of rebellion on its head. He points out that real, meaningful change doesn’t come from being angrily defiant and tearing things down without a vision. He invites us to be revolutionary, which involves actively creating a world shaped by love and hope. In Fromm’s view, a rebellion is often just a knee-jerk no, while a revolution is a conscious yes—a yes to new ideas, empathy, growth, and a shared sense of humanity. It’s not about burning everything to the ground; it’s about laying the foundation for something better.
Most of us lean into conformity without even realizing it. Fromm, a social psychologist, used the term “automaton conformity” to describe how we adopt socially approved opinions and identities. We attach value to ourselves by following what’s trendy: brand names, celebrity endorsements, viral social media takes. We want so badly to belong, so we mimic what’s around us. It’s easier than sitting alone with messy feelings and forming ideas from scratch.
This applies to everyone, everywhere. There’s no perfect side or group immune. The moment we think we’re beyond all manipulation is when we become part of the problem. If you believe it’s always us vs. them, you’re likely playing into someone else’s narrative—being coaxed by sensational headlines, viral misinformation, and the illusions of a simplistic worldview.
So what’s the antidote to all of this? I believe it starts with learning to be a critical thinker—someone who can read between the lines, question assumptions, and reflect on biases. Read more books, yes—but read them with an open mind. Challenge yourself to explore perspectives you don’t agree with. Realize that you can hold conflicting ideas in your head without exploding. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s a sign of growth.
More importantly: do the inner work. Have those awkward, sometimes painful conversations with yourself or with a therapist. Recognize the emotional baggage you carry around. If my fractured hand taught me anything, it’s that ignoring the weight of your anxieties or resentments doesn’t make them disappear; they find a more violent way to surface. Doing that personal work might be the most revolutionary act you can do—because a better world starts with better self-awareness.
We circle back to the question: “What good can I do for myself? How can I affect the world around me?” The answers might be simpler than we imagine. You do good for yourself by slowing down, listening to your emotions before they spiral, and finding healthy ways to release them: talking, writing, painting, singing, meditating, whatever helps you move forward without punching a wooden chest. You affect the world by sharing that newfound clarity, practicing empathy, and staying curious about other people’s experiences instead of shoving them into the us vs. them box.
Real change—the kind Erich Fromm described—doesn’t happen because we get louder in our anger. It happens because we grow deeper in our understanding. We can all stand to be a bit more gentle with ourselves, and in doing so, more compassionate with others. Maybe that’s how we avoid fracturing more than just our bones—by building something better, together.
I will be including flash fiction that philosophizes on life in upcoming posts.