The Fight Within
Barbarism. At times the things that drive me. Dante had told me, “We run to deal with our demons.” That is mostly true. But I witness beauty as I clean out the attic of my mind. And what do those people do who decide not to move their bodies outside vigorously unaided by supersonic earplugs to the nature of life—mechanical or otherwise?
This morning as I stepped back to look at myself watching an old boxing match. Which included multiple body and head shots by both men to both men—in a light-weight professional match from the mid-1970s. I wondered what the draw was? What about it invigorated this woman called Me? Yes, I wanted to be there—in the ring. Too, how horrible a person I must be to want and to enjoy the essence of that.
Is this our nature? Or is just mine? Am I that old soul we never speak of? Or have I just landed—inquisitive in the nature of our minds? Who is this person I watch? I pick apart each day as to what makes me do what I do or what I desire to do. My husband would claim that I take whatever sticks on the wall that has been thrown—and then I run with it. Its all I know. My psyche says, ‘Go for it. Cause it ain’t going to be there for you—too long. No one wants you to have it anyway’.
I’m still in the wilderness. Still chasing down meals—as I look over my shoulder. There’s not anything wrong—it’s called survival. Just like playgrounds, I usually don’t step into them fully. I take advantage of when I can step back—watching the scene in its entirety. Observing constantly how others behave. And realizing, I want no part of their world. There is no envy.
The answers may be that I’ve witnessed much that others haven’t—yet by no means have I existed in a war zone. I wonder as I know life is frail and fleeting if after me—the world will be less violent. Too, I consider the world may not need someone like me—who constantly plays chess in their mind. It’s not for conquering—it’s the hope that hatred occurs less often.---Jody-Lynn Reicher
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