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Into The Ring

For the past six years I've been trying to figure out why I've been tossed into the ring for a fight I can't possibly win, and yet I'm compelled to keep fighting because...well, because I just can't imagine giving up. I really don't like any of the ideas others send my way about the "purpose" of such a futile combat. And I'm most especially revolted by the suspicion that I'll likely never understand the reason. It makes me angry, frustrated, and resentful. The only comfort I get is that by now I've compiled a long history of not surrendering, and so by God I never will. Is that enough? I guess it has to be.

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i absolutely love this.

and my response might be: oh but you have surrendered, don't you see? you've surrendered to the act itself. you've given up and been swept into the fight. fight your way through the eye of the needle eh?

since my early years, ohhhh let's say teenage years, back when my brain really came online so-to-speak and my generative power kicked-in, i noticed that many of my elders, particularly those 50+ years seemed to have all passed through some sort of middle-aged portal. no one ever spoke about it. i heard people mention a mid-life crisis, but this was much more than that. this was the culmination of a couple of those... and happened late in life for most.

yes, in my mind's eye i could see that "everyone passes through a mid-life gate" towards the last decade or two of their lives where a transformation suddenly takes place. in essence it was a sort of phantom death, and the interesting part was how there appeared to be two extremes that emerged in the end.

very clearly there are some who pass through this portal and come out with wide-eyed grins like the dalai lama or my god-mother catherine, and their faces are soft as silk and relaxed and at peace forever. and then there were others who emerged very bitter, poisoned by their own mind's resent. they appear to shriveled, face contorted even. they can most easily be recognized during the holiday season as 'the grinch'... =)

in reading your entry once again, i realize the ego will never give up the fight. mine surely hasn't. if there is a difference between us, which i don't really believe there is, i might say that i've stopped taking "all" my orders from the storyteller, the intellectual narrator within the mind. i can access the presence behind the one who rings the bell! and declares its time to "fight"... and i can sit with him, in his chair... and carve into that bell the most beautiful lovesong ever written... and in that moment i can literally feel that i'm accessing the larger part of my brain. i can sense that i'm stepping past the 10-12% that most of us are confined to, and rarely dare to cross the threshold of...

but it was only through the fight that i learned how to love. all has value.

bless you for this moment bright soul.
so many of your soul archetypes are that of the great leader,...
leading the many home to the one. right here. now.
thank you moses,

My dear Aven, I’m not as spiritually evolved as you are, and I don’t think I ever will be. My mother’s abandonment and my father’s abuse sent me into a profound and likely permanent withdrawal, and I remain protected by the cliché of an impenetrable shield. I’m wholly safe, completely encased.

In the last 20 years I’ve been working hard to break out and access the beautiful stuff you refer to, but after intense meditations I get only the subtlest of glimmers. I look with envy at those, like you, who manage to get the whole bright, blinding thing.

This leaves me with the doing, rather than the being. It’s all about behavior. Stop hurting people. Well, the best way to do that is to live in solitude!

Also, there is the creation of art.

As you know, on one level my post refers to Vittoria/Maria and my trying to help her break free of her entanglements so that we can have a loving relationship face to face rather than long distance. The other part is the ridiculous struggle to get our book published.

And then there’s my brave vow to never surrender. Usually my irony just goes over people’s heads, but you understood it instantly. There is comfort in acceptance. Deciding that I will not turn away from a fight I will never win does bring me some peace.

It’s grim, you know. But following the orders of the storyteller, the intellectual narrator within my mind is as far as I can go at the moment.

My deepest thanks, once again dear Aven, for your understanding…

I've spent a long time battling things that seem unwinnable. My whole life has been climbing emotional or spiritual or situational mountains, and I have often asked myself, "Why am I doing this? What is the reward for my endurance?" It's a lot of struggle, and it often feels like it's for nothing.

For me, sometimes the only reward is knowing that I did not give up, that I never abandoned the fight for what is right because it was swallowed alive by the unwinnable nature of the battle. I can not bear an injustice, and the only answer I can give myself is Because it's not right. Someone has to stand up for justice. Sometimes, it takes a very long time of going on and on before my battles bear fruit. It's given me the gift so many people lack, and that is the ability to have long-range sight, to look past the immediate and into the beyond.

I hope you find your answer.

Re: I hear you, John.

Yes, I fully understand that sometimes it feels like the struggle isn't worth it. But then I contemplate how I'd feel if I ran away. I think that's the elusive answer. It's not the outcome that's of value, but rather the effort to achieve it.

I know exactly what you mean.

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