So many thoughts running through my mind, running, racing, rumbling by: I’d planned on writing a memorial day piece, but spent little time on the train writing such things; I’d meant to write a piece on friendship, a piece on where I’m going, and why. But not tonight.
I’m thankful for the men and women who have died fighting for our freedom, for our peace, for our security and country. I’m thankful for the men and women who continue to fight for these values. Recently I read Iron John by Robert Bly, and a passage I’ve been thinking about is his passage on warriors. Our culture does its best to remove the warrior from boy-children as soon as possible. We medically diagnose rowdiness and antsy behavior with calming medications to stifle the warrior, the hero, the fighter in the child. If you’ve never seen a boy pretending he has a gun, shooting baddies, or wearing a mask and cape made of ribbon and a ratty blanket, or counting down the timer at a basketball court, making the shot that will win the greatest title in history, then you aren’t paying attention. Boys gobble these heroics up.
In addition, until proven wrong, little boys often think their dads are superheroes, capable of astounding feats of strength and mechanical aptitude. Did my dad just chop down that tree? Did my dad just DUNK that basketball? The warrior mentality is strong in the younger children, but we lose it. Schooling squeezes us dry, proving we’re being trained for desks and computer screens, not battlefields, horses, sweat, victory, and flight. Never is gravity so profound as that holding a boy to an elementary school desk, teaching him he can’t fly and will never do so.
And it’s not like we’re doing things any better for women and girls in our culture.
So I respect those warriors, those people out there fighting for something. Sometimes they are fighting for something internal as much as external.
But tonight, no more on that.
I had a rough week, but the end struggled to rectify the pains. I’ve had friends praying for me, with me, and I know the Spirit intercedes on my behalf. Yet now and then, life is just tough. At least the skies are on my side, alternating between sunny blue and dark, brooding clouds to simulate my emotions on a heavenly canvas. The firmament understands, and the seas reflect the skies reflecting me, and even I’m reflected in the waters, so the circle goes.
And my week ended so spectacularly, I’ve nothing to complain about, I think: pickup soccer, beautiful sunsets, mountain driving, family coming to town, a hilarious DnD adventure, and hope. Only two weeks until my best friend in the world gets married. Only three until my best friend gets married. Last week was the one year anniversary of my good friends. I don’t think I got the memo – I just want to explore the world, read, write, play soccer, run, hike, find secret rivers and splash and play, and pick my way up mountains.
Oh hey, I love you. Don’t forget it. Rest well this night.
(Did I ever write about my superhero dream? It's my favorite dream. I'm a superhero, and my power is I can turn into an oil slick)
http://benjaminwblog.com/2014/05/warriors/
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