I consider myself a warrior. I will rise to the occasion when the
occasion demands it. I consider my options and weigh the consequences. If the
shoe fits – I will rise. I say ‘if the
shoe fits’ because sometimes we fight out of pride or ignorance but many of
those issues are irrelevant. A bruised ego does not deserve my attention. Don’t
get me wrong I am just as easily snared by pride as the next victim, but hopefully
wisdom wins out in the end and once I have considered my options and weighed
the consequences – a bruised ego is lowest on my totem pole for a fight.
I consider myself a warrior – not by choice but by behavior. I
hate injustice and have jumped at the chance to help fight a worthy fight. I
have stood by loved ones and even strangers. I have come face to face with many
hardships and deep sufferings but they were always mine to carry.
So here I am in this strange new land; a land where things don’t
operate according to my outline on life; an outline that clearly states the
person committing an action should be the main recipient of the negative
consequences. The problem with negative consequences is that some people want
to bear their own and some people do not. See I can fight these important
battles when I know that I will be the one who deals with my own consequences –
after all, they are my costs to pay. Newton’s law of motion – to every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction. I weigh the price, the costs and the
consequences for myself. But what happens when the innocent suffer for my
rebellion? The weak are punished for my anger? The poor are penalized for my
protests? I find myself a coward. I can’t fight these fights of injustice for
fear that the blameless receptionist will suffer for my actions when all liability
belongs to the manager. I can’t take a stand when I know the clerk who
graciously helped me will be the one to shoulder all responsibility. I have
watched over and over again the wrong person suffer for my causes. What the
heck am I supposed to do now? I hesitate to even complain for fear someone else
will be left with my burdens. I dare not get angry at an injustice for fear the
kind old man who guided me will be someone else’s scapegoat. I can’t do it, and
such a righteous anger rises up in me because I am faced with a blaring truth -
that I am a coward. I just can’t do it
anymore. I just can’t.
Nor will I play judge and jury to decide what social system is right
or wrong. It is what it is…when I agreed to come here, I agreed to listen and
learn. I made an unspoken agreement the day I bought my plane ticket.
However – when all is said and done – I am still a fighter. So
what cause will this fighter take up now? How about the battle to better my
behavior, to be mindful of my actions and to guard my mouth more carefully? Maybe I will rise to the occasion of living
instead of fighting - after all my life is an occasion. As Suzanne
Weyn wrote in Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium, “Your life is an
occasion. Rise to it.” And so I shall…
Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear – not absence of
fear. Mark Twain
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