Looking For The Olive Branch

What does the 250th Anniversary Dime says about our relationship with peace and conflict?

Photo by Hunter Masters on Unsplash

We have lots of symbols here in the United States, especially on our coins.

On the Great Seal of The United States, is a bald eagle. The national bird of the United States. Wings outstretched, a crest shield on it’s chest, the national coat of arms. In one talon an olive branch and another, arrows. Thirteen of them.

The idea for that is basically this: The United States prefers peace but will go to war if necessary.

Also the eagle is facing to the left towards the talon with olive branch.

This year for the 250th anniversary the U.S. Mint has dropped a new design for the dime.

This design features an eagle in flight. In the eagle’s left talon, it carries 13 arrows, in the right, nothing.

The eagle is looking down at it’s empty talon. And beneath it are the words “Liberty Over Tyranny”.

When I first saw this design, I was struck immediately. My first concern being that there was absolutely no olive branch at all.

From what I’ve heard, it’s supposed to represent the position the United States was in during the Revolutionary War. In a way, I get it. A young nation that recently declared it’s independence from Great Britain and was now in a war that they weren’t sure they would win.

So yes, it does sorta feel like an eagle in flight that is looking for peace that is...gone?

It sends a different message. It doesn’t feel glorious or triumphal. It feels like a coin design that a nation would release when it’s locked in a war for it’s very survival currently, not in the past.

It sends a signal of national distress. A lack of hope.

Others may see it as a nation that is perpetually at war and longing for peace. That however is a whole other conversation.

I’m not being critical of the coin design. But I think for average Americans, this will be noticeable and having many scratching their heads and wondering what the symbolism is.

From that will come questions about the motive and inspiration as well as how they should view the nation right now.

And possibly even themselves.

What does a hope for peace and a preparedness for conflict look like in our own lives. How do we carry both? Can being on guard and being at peace coexist?

What internal tyrannies are we battling inside? Fear, doubt, limiting beliefs?

What do our external conflicts look like with others?

Because here’s the thing, most of us are living like that eagle right now. We’re in flight. Always moving, always scanning for threats, always ready to deploy those arrows. We wake up already defending ourselves against the day ahead. Against our own thoughts. Against expectations we didn’t choose but somehow agreed to carry.

When did we stop landing?

When did rest become weakness? When did the idea of putting down the arrows, even for a moment, start feeling like surrender instead of sanity?

I think about the people I know who are exhausted but can’t stop. Who are successful but not satisfied. Who’ve been “preparing for conflict” for so long they wouldn’t recognize peace if it landed in their empty talon. They’re strong. Vigilant. Capable. And completely worn out.

The coin says “Liberty Over Tyranny.” But what if the tyranny isn’t just external? What if we’ve internalized it? What if the real battle isn’t with some outside force, but with the voice that says you can never let your guard down, never be vulnerable, never admit you’re tired of carrying those arrows?

That’s the trap. We confuse readiness with living. Defense with freedom. Strength with the inability to rest.

And maybe that’s what the missing olive branch really represents, not just a nation at war, but a people who’ve forgotten what peace even looks like. Or worse, who’ve been told that looking for it is naive. Weak. Dangerous.

I see it in the way we talk to ourselves. The internal conflicts that never resolve because we’re too busy staying strong to actually heal. The limiting beliefs we defend like they’re keeping us safe when really they’re just keeping us in flight. Fear masquerading as preparedness. Doubt dressed up as realism.

And externally? We carry that same energy into our relationships. Always a little guarded. Always ready for the other person to become a threat. We say we want connection, but we’re gripping those arrows so tight we can’t actually hold anything else.

The question isn’t whether we should be prepared for conflict. Of course we should. The question is whether we’ve made conflict our default setting. Whether we’ve normalized the absence of peace to the point where we don’t even notice the empty talon anymore.

Because that eagle is still flying. Still strong. Still capable. But it’s also still searching. Looking down at what it’s missing. And I think a lot of us are doing the same thing, moving through life wondering when we’ll feel settled, when the fight will be over, when we’ll finally be able to land.

Maybe the coin isn’t just commemorating a war from 250 years ago. Maybe it’s holding up a mirror. Asking us what we’re actually fighting for. And whether we’ve spent so much time preparing for tyranny that we’ve forgotten how to practice liberty.

Real liberty might not be the ability to carry more arrows. It might be the courage to set them down. To stop being perpetually in flight. To actually look for the olive branch instead of just wondering where it went.

That’s the harder work. Not the defense. The peace.

---

If you’re a man reading this and recognizing yourself in that eagle, perpetually in flight, searching for an olive branch that feels gone, I wrote a book about how to build from rest instead of just living in performance.