We are each of us
imperfect in so many ways. To me we are
all just bumbling, imperfect human beings looking for a way through this life
while trying to do our best. I don’t
believe that there are many people out there who intentionally and willfully
hurt others. I’m not naïve enough to
believe that there is NO ONE out there doing just that, I just choose to do my
best to see the good, as opposed to the bad.
I’m fairly certain though that there lies within each of us a trigger
that will unleash that mean streak. I
also know that sometimes others do intentionally hurt us, but I like to hope
that it’s followed quickly by regret and sorrow. When this happens, when we are emotionally,
verbally, and sometimes physically assaulted, we have a choice in how we
react. I have a deep seeded trigger
within myself. I know it is there. It’s always been there. Strapping on leather gloves and stepping toe
to toe with another willful individual is how I suppress that trigger, and yet
not too long ago I let that trigger get the better of me. I try and look at the things I said in haste
and I’ve even gone so far as to “talk to someone about it” but I know for sure
that I was pushed to that proverbial edge then swiftly kicked in the rear right
over it. I accept the words I said, and
the more time that goes on, I realize that I said what I had to say, and I said
what I meant. It still hurts to know
that you released that anger. By “talking
to someone” I’ve come to realize that in comparison what I said was not really
that mean, and that it was also my defense mechanism to end the madness and to
stop the cyclical pattern of being attacked verbally and emotionally. My anger is not a place where I find
comfort. It’s not an emotion that I
share willingly. It’s something I prefer
to keep in the inner recesses of my being.
Through hours of
talking it out, looking for answers, and reaching out for help, I’ve come to
realize that the pain I endured was “enough”.
It is, was, and will remain time to move away from that space. Words sometimes hurt worse than the fists and
kicks I endure in a good sparring match.
The pain of being kicked in the head is like no other. As your opponent comes in, setting up that
devastating blow with jabs and hooks, you are aware. You know you are in a battle. You cannot dodge the pain. It’s coming and you know it. When that elusive kick finally connects to
the cranium, something within had prepared you for it. And yet that moment where you realize you
have suddenly lost your ground, your footing, your equilibrium, and your
senses, is not unlike this process I have been facing. I’ve kissed the mat several times over the
last 5 years of training. I’ve taken my
beatings and I’ve tried hard to condition my body and mind for the
onslaught. When you are beaten down by
one you love, that’s a different beast in and of itself. No amount of padding, gear, or preparation
will suffice when the day comes where you realize you are verbally beaten to a
pulp. When you are emotionally devastated
by words, cruelty, and a disproportionate amount of hate, you could only wish
for a kick to the head instead. You are
limited on your defenses. No amount of
bobbing and weaving can get you past it.
You have to deal with it, head on!
I’m learning that
getting through that pain is far easier said than done. By me putting up my defense, and stopping the
onslaught, I figured I would just man up and be tough in order to get me
through. When the dust settled I realized
I was far more beaten that I had anticipated.
The wounds were deeper than I could have imagined. I knew I was facing the next opponent. I knew the cathartic state would pass and as
my emotions settled, I thought I’d just tough this out. Fake it til’ you make it! I was wrong!
The pain of losing someone you love, truly loved, is sometimes more than
even the toughest of the tough can handle.
We can stand in its face with undogged determination, but we cannot go
around it. We can stand there and do
nothing, but the energy of the action will permeate us if we do not make
progress. To get past it, you have to
move through it. You cannot go around
that pain. You cannot go under it. You can’t jump over it. You have to embrace it and feel it in order
to get through it. There is only one way
to find the other side, and I believe that is straight through it with eyes
wide open. When you have accepted the
fact that your belief in all that is good can, and will, be challenged you
become humbled. When the rare occasion
presents itself that you are taken for a ride with ill will and hurtful
intention, you just have to ride that bull and come to this place in front of
the pain.
I’m learning to be
quiet in this place. I’m accepting my part and my shortcomings. I am starting to recognize that emotions are
just that! Feelings. Fleeting and elusive. We are not our emotions. We can choose to be shaped by them, or we can
deal with them head on. We can recognize
them as impermanent and own the fact that they are there. When I stood before this pain (initially) I was
paralyzed with fear. I’d rather go bare
knuckle and flat out with one of my sparring buddies than face this beast. I chose the direct path with the help of some
friends and close support. I wish this
upon no one, and yet we’ll all face it at some point in our lives. Whether it’s a lost love or the ultimate loss
of death, there will come a time when we don’t want to feel what is
inevitable. When you choose to walk
gracefully from a situation, with your own dignity in mind, then you must move
forward. Face the pain and let the pain
wash away the grief. Let one bathe the
other and purge it from where you stand.
The beauty in this approach is when you finally transcend the pain; you
emerge on the other side stronger. More
resilient, whole, and it is there, and only there, where you will find the one
true reward of facing the pain….forgiveness.
