The Faust Baseline™Purchasing Page – Intelligent People Assume Nothing
micvicfaust@intelligent-people.org
There’s a reason that old song still works.
Not because it’s clever.
Because it tells the truth without trying to fix anyone.
Sometimes in our lives, we all have pain.
That line doesn’t rush past anything. It stops right there.
Pain. Not drama. Not crisis branding. Just pain.
The problem right now isn’t that people are weak.
It’s that they’ve been carrying too much alone for too long.
The decompression chamber slows the pressure.
But after that, something else is required.
Support.
Not the loud kind.
Not the performative kind.
Not the kind that says, “I’ve got answers.”
The kind that says, “You don’t have to hold this by yourself for a minute.”
That song doesn’t promise rescue.
It promises presence.
“When you’re not strong.”
Not if. When.
That’s important.
Strength isn’t a permanent state.
It’s a rotation.
Everyone gets a turn carrying weight.
Everyone gets a turn setting it down.
What breaks people isn’t need.
It’s pretending they don’t have any.
“Please swallow your pride.”
That line gets skipped now.
We don’t like it.
But pride is expensive under pressure.
It isolates.
It keeps the load invisible.
And invisible weight does the most damage.
Here’s the quiet truth most systems won’t say out loud:
No one self-regulates forever.
No one stabilizes in isolation.
No one thinks clearly when every burden stays private.
Leaning on someone isn’t collapse.
It’s load-sharing.
It’s how bridges work.
It’s how old crews worked.
It’s how families, shops, churches, and neighborhoods survived before everything became abstract and digital and lonely.
The song also does something else we’ve forgotten how to do.
It admits reciprocity.
“It won’t be long till I’m gonna need somebody to lean on.”
That line matters more than people realize.
Support isn’t charity.
It’s rotation.
Today I hold the ladder.
Tomorrow you do.
That keeps dignity intact.
That keeps resentment from forming.
That keeps people human instead of hardened.
Right now, a lot of people are tired of being told to be resilient.
They don’t need another demand placed on their spine.
They need permission to set the weight down with someone else present.
This is where the Baseline meets something older than any system.
Not optimization.
Not compliance.
Not performance.
Human steadiness.
Lean on me doesn’t mean depend forever.
It means don’t disappear when it’s heavy.
It means answering the call.
It means sitting next to someone who doesn’t have words yet.
It means not rushing them back into strength for your own comfort.
Sometimes support looks like advice.
Most of the time it looks like silence that isn’t abandonment.
And here’s the part that matters now, more than ever:
People don’t need to be pulled forward.
They need to know someone will stay put while they catch their breath.
That’s how decompression holds.
That’s how clarity survives.
That’s how people come back online without breaking.
Old song.
No updates needed.
Lean on me.
Not because you’re failing.
Because you’re human.
Unauthorized commercial use prohibited.
© 2026 The Faust Baseline LLC
