If you're like me, you thrive off the fight - the kind that brings change. You feed off of it. You don't wish for an easier life; you wish for better walls to climb and wars to kill and people to save. You choose the hard way on purpose, you draw your lines in the ground where people refuse to take a position, and above all, you run towards the fire. You ask the beautiful questions. You like to burn down the barn every once in a while just to see the moon. You take the road less traveled by, you push yourself when others would indulge you, and you know that nothing good comes without a gorgeous, knockdown fight.
It's not because we don't want things to be easy, though, if you're like me. That we wouldn't love to lie down, to sleep through the night, to accept what life drops on our laps with grace and gratitude. To believe that our lives, our homes, our loved ones are untouchable. It's not because we don't want those things.
It's because we don't believe in them. The safe meadows with sunshine streaming down and porches with lemonade... we'd love to stay, it sounds lovely, really, but we've seen too many storms to believe that the calm is anything other than the warning beforehand. We exist in a war zone, and if there is no war to be found, we'll make one ourselves. Just finished building it? Good. Now tear it down. We want to see what's behind that door, over that mountain, inside that holy book. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but at least it lived ten lives first. Every other animal only gets one.
Summer feels like a lie to me - hey baby, it's all good and groovy, let's just chill by the pool, there's nothing to stress about- and when autumn rolls around I'm relieved. Change is coming. The stagnancy I felt during the LA summer will retreat back into the darkness and the part of me that wanted a mighty shove so I could pick myself up off the ground, dust off my bloody knees, and cock my fists thinks finally. Finally. Let's do this.
It is my firm belief that there are two types of people in this world: fighter and healer. You can have a little of both - most somewhat well-adjusted people do - but you pick the way you approach the world and it's either with hands open in acceptance or hands clenched and swinging. The world needs both, and healers don't have it any easier than fighters, in fact I think they have it harder, because everyone's been through storms and it takes a specific kind of courage to sit in that field and believe in its beauty without wondering when the next lightening strike is gonna happen. But fighters have courage of their own, and when their nerve denies them, they go above their nerve.
During the summer, I had nothing to fight for, and so I had nothing to say. Now that autumn is coming, change is in the air, and it feels good. Good, good things are happening, and are going to continue to happen, when I burn down the barn yet again the view will be beautiful.
The healers I keep in my life - and you know who you are - I thank you, again and again, for keeping me balanced and sane and for being in my corner and helping me unclench my fists every once in a while to enjoy the good things that will come and land in my open palms. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it. And, like all of you, I am moving always towards better things, and I'll meet you at the next rest stop.
Thursday Thirteen on Saturday
1 week ago