THE STRUGGLE
In the beginning I have no idea that I'm actually in a
struggle.
Until that day comes when I encounter the reality of the
situation; then my eyes open and I realize that I am not as strong, or as free,
or as in control as I thought I was because now I see the struggle.
And at this point I have a decision to make:
Do I acknowledge that the struggle is genuine?
Do I deny the existence of the struggle?
Do I ignore the struggle altogether hoping it will die of
natural causes... if I don't first?
Then, if I do decide to admit, confess, or even profess that
I am in a struggle, I have more choices that look squarely at me:
Do I fight to eventually overcome this struggle?
Do I spend the same amount of time and energy attempting to
cover up the fact that I have this struggle?
Do I just give in, let it overtake me, ultimately define and
limit who I am, and in doing so end the whole issue altogether?
If decide not to struggle at all, at least it won't be a
struggle anymore because to struggle with something requires one to fight,
battle, or wrestle against it.
But this struggle within or without against whatever is
trying to change me, discourage me, hold me back, deprive me, or even destroy
me is something that I don't want to rob me of my future—let alone dictate who
I am now.
So, I make the choice to struggle... against this struggle.
It's a struggle; yes, a constant war between what I need
versus what it wants, what I envision for myself versus how it sees me, and
what is the best for me versus what it does to me.
My desire to have liberty, to make my own choices free from
its influence, to look at myself and not see one that is weak-willed,
feeble-minded, or soft-hearted is that which drives me to continue.
The struggle is up and ready before I get out of bed, on
alert watching me during the day, and awake and vigilant throughout the night.
I cannot lose focus for a second, give in for a minute, rest
for an hour, take a day off, go on a week's vacation, or decide to seek a
month's sabbatical because the struggle is constant—looking for any and every
opportunity to tighten its grip, strengthen its power, and expand its
territory.
But over time, as I intensify my
efforts to continue the struggle I find that the harder I try, the stronger I become;
so it may not be a case of the struggle becoming weaker but rather me growing
more powerful so that I can either do more with the same effort or do the same
with less effort.
This, in and of itself presents
another choice; do I keep increasing my attempts in order to eventually defeat
my foe or do I find an equilibrium of sorts that will permit me to keep the
struggle under control so that I can ease up upon my efforts to render the
situation contained rather than over with?
It then stands as a simple
decision of choosing whether to proceed in order to gain... or just maintain.
However, that would freeze my
progress, stunt my growth, and halt my journey because at this point I am
having mercy upon my struggle by deducing it to a level of existence as long as
I no longer view it as bad as it once was... is this healthy?
Struggle can make you tired,
wear you out, and become an obsession of sorts so I must again decide; is it
worth it to invest the time and energy needed to finally obliterate what I
struggle with or do I tell myself that this is a lifelong conflict and victory
is equal to being in control of myself... for the most part?
No, I will win—even if it kills
me... something eventually will kill me and I refuse for it to be what I
struggle with because if I die—when I die—I want it to be with my hands
squeezing the the throat of my struggle not with my struggle sucking the last
vestiges of life and creativity from my limp and famished corpse.
There are good days and bad
days, better days and worse days, strong days and weak days, days I will
remember which are branded upon my mind and days I will forget that are lost in
a blur.
But there is a mid-point of
sorts where I become stronger than the struggle—I don't know until afterward
because the next day the scales are tipped and the delicate balance which lasts
a millisecond is broken and master becomes slave, served turns into servant,
that which has been overcome suddenly overcomes, and victim is transformed into
victor—even if it takes them a while to recognize this seismic shift.
This only takes place if I
refuse to stop struggling; the key to winning and freedom is the decision to
keep up the fight.
Yes, I have days where it seems
I have lost strength or the struggle has somehow been infused with new power;
there are times I am convinced to quit, compelled to give in, coerced to
relinquish my position of authority... but I cannot do that no matter how bad
the situation develops.
Such are mind tricks intended to
distract, derail, and eventually destroy my destiny.
That won't happen—because as
long as I am given another day that I am able to open my eyes and make the
choice to struggle once more, I remain in charge of everything and the struggle
has no chance.
