When “Good” Has to Mean Something

There are movie lines that are basically designed to become wallpaper.

Pretty. Quotable. Shareable. Something you post over a soft gradient background and scroll past.

And then there are lines that land like a full-body pause. The kind that makes you stop chewing your popcorn. The kind that quietly rearranges your brain while you’re still sitting there, watching the scene move on without you.

When I was watching Wicked: For Good, one line hit me harder than anything else in the movie.

“You can’t let good be just a word. It has to mean something.” — Elphaba

Now, yes. Obviously I’m a Wicked fan. I’m the kind of fan who can hear the first note of a song and immediately start emotionally preparing for whatever it’s about to do to me. I knew I’d be moved. I knew I’d be delighted. I knew I’d be thinking about friendship and power and choices and all the glittery, complicated stuff stories like this hold.

What I didn’t expect was for one sentence to feel like a mirror held up to my face.

Because “good” is a word we toss around constantly.

We say we’re trying to do good.

We say we’re “good people.”

We say we want “good vibes only.”

We tell kids to “be good.”

We describe a situation as “good” when what we really mean is “fine enough to move on.”

We use it so much that it starts to blur into background noise.

And Elphaba’s line grabs the word by the collar and says, Nope. Define it.

Good isn’t a label. It’s a practice.

If good is just something we call ourselves, it doesn’t cost us anything.

If good is something we do, it costs us time. Energy. Attention. Humility. Sometimes comfort. Sometimes convenience. Sometimes the ability to stay quiet when it would be easier to speak.

That’s why the line hit me so hard. It’s not inspirational in a fluffy way. It’s a challenge.

It’s asking:

What does good look like when nobody’s clapping?

What does good look like when you’re tired?

What does good look like when you’re overstimulated and running on caffeine and vibes?

What does good look like when you’re annoyed?

What does good look like when you’re wrong?

Because “good” isn’t really tested when everything is easy. It’s tested when you have options. When you have stress. When you have a choice between being kind and being petty. Between being helpful and being busy. Between being right and being gentle.

It’s tempting to prioritize being right.

But the longer I live with that tension, the more I realize good is less about being correct and more about being intentional.

Doing good doesn’t have to be grand.

I think we freeze up sometimes because we imagine “good” has to be huge. Like it has to be a sweeping gesture or a life-changing moment or some dramatic act of heroism with soaring music behind it.

But most goodness isn’t dramatic.

Most goodness is small.

It’s sending the text you don’t have to send, just to check on someone.

It’s tipping the extra couple dollars even when your budget is tight.

It’s giving someone credit out loud.

It’s returning the cart. It’s letting someone merge.

It’s listening without trying to fix.

It’s apologizing without a paragraph of excuses attached.

It’s choosing not to dunk on somebody for sport.

Sometimes doing good is simply refusing to add more cruelty to a world that already has plenty.

And when you stack enough small goodness together, it starts to feel like meaning.

That’s the part I keep coming back to.

Because the world is loud. People define “good” in a thousand conflicting ways. Some people call things good when they’re really just powerful. Some people call things good when they’re really just familiar. Some people call things good when they benefit them.

So the work becomes figuring out what good means in your own life.

Not as a brand.

Not as a performance.

Not as a word you use to make yourself feel better.

But as a decision.

As a habit.

As a steady, boring, beautiful commitment.

And yes, it can be messy and uncomfortable.

Here’s the other thing: good doesn’t always look cute.

Sometimes doing good means setting a boundary.

Sometimes it means saying no.

Sometimes it means changing your mind.

Sometimes it means walking away from what’s comfortable because it isn’t right anymore.

Sometimes it means standing up, speaking up, showing up, even when you’re nervous.

Good can be soft.

But good can also be fierce.

That’s why Elphaba saying it matters. She isn’t talking about good as an aesthetic. She’s talking about good as a choice you keep making even when it costs you something.

So here’s my Jibber Jabber question for you:

Where in your life has “good” turned into just a word?

Not because you’re a bad person. Not because you don’t care. Just because life gets busy and autopilot is real.

What would it look like to give it meaning again?

Maybe it’s one small action.

One text.

One apology.

One act of generosity.

One moment of courage.

One tiny choice that says, I’m not just going to talk about good. I’m going to do it.

Because words are powerful.

But meaning is built over time.

And apparently, thanks to Wicked, I’m going to be thinking about this line forever. Which is honestly rude. But also kind of perfect.

Be kind.

Do more good…with purpose.

We’ve got this. 🌏✨