Never Stop Fighting

"Peace is a lie."
--from the creed of the Sith under Darth Bane

We will always have conflicts, obstacles to overcome. Life is strife. It is an eternal battle for improvement, the pursuit of perfection that is ultimately unattainable.

But that is a good thing. I expect nothing less from life.

Of course perfection is unattainable, but it is the pursuit thereof which defines us. How we fight for it. That is the core of any Faith or Discipline, East or West.

Some people mistakenly criticize me for thus bringing strife upon myself, telling me that I am the master of my own discontent because of what they superficially diagnose as a "bad attitude." But without strife there is no peace. Without dark there is no light. Happiness is not found in denial. Balance is not found in stasis.

March 2002. My junior year of college. Midterm Week. I reluctantly, begrudgingly climbed down from my lofted twin mattress in my dorm room in Ryle Hall and hopped into the shower, preparing to face another epic day. This was a battle, I told myself. A battle to get a good grade on my Music History exam. Of course, the professor was more than his share of Douche, which made him the perfect villain for the conflict. Brushing my teeth, I idly wondered if I was touched in the head for treating midterms like a slew of decisive battles. I wondered if I would ever be able to drift through higher education with the apparent ease of some of my classmates. I wondered if there would be a time when all of my professors would be good guys and not villains.

As time would tell: a resounding NO.

But I distinctly remember that morning, or at least the feeling of that morning. I realized that approaching such things with a warrior's mentality was becoming the norm for me. I didn't know if that was good or bad at the time.

Seven years later. March 2009. I decided, in retrospect, that it was fine (the prof was a douche, after all, and he did make me have to fight for a good grade). I was driving home from an aggravating day of substitute teaching, watching the afternoon sun through an overcast sky, listening to a choice cue from The Return of the King, feeling phantom pains where my heart used to be. I dimly recalled the vain, self-important, celebratory feeling after finishing a semester of college, saying farewell to final exams with some excellent film music, alcohol, and dear friends. The cycle of strife and triumph, the sweet release of victory and change.

Nothing in this life--nothing--is worse than boredom.

I have plenty of problems to deal with, that's for sure. Problem is, they're all too stagnant, too... gray. I miss the days of black and white. So I'll hack off one head of the Hydra and see what sprouts in its place.

Holy crap, though... I sure could use an Ewok celebration.

The idealistic undergraduate in me was frozen in carbonite a long time ago, but I remember him well. Poor bastard. He thought it would get easier after the final victory of graduation.

Never stop fighting. It is not about pursuing some convoluted sense of glory or accomplishment. It is not about vanity or self-deception. It is all about pushing onward and upward.

Or do you think otherwise? Do you think that accepting the sourness of a mundane, unfulfilling life is somehow more difficult, and therefore more courageous?

"Bullshit. Colossal, immense, unbelievable bullshit. There is nothing heroic in the acceptance of a sick concept of normality. If the reality surrounding you tells you to devote yourself to a dull job and embrace a life without surprises, it is neither noble nor wise to make an effort to conform. Becoming part of a system that feeds disharmony and does nothing to change the state of things is not a sign of moderation, but of mediocrity. Let's not settle for such a pathetically low ideal."
--Daniele Bolelli, On the Warrior's Path (Frog, Ltd. 2003)