The Warrior and the Fighter

     Once upon a time there was a warrior who travelled alone, carrying his shield, staff and belongings with him wherever he went. The Warrior, while alone, wasn't lonely and felt comfortable with his own thoughts. He appreciated being able to follow his own path, follow his own dreams, and to have the energy to defend those who needed defending when he was called upon to do so.

     One day he saw a man travelling in the opposite direction. He noticed that the other also carried a shield, but instead of a staff, he carried a sword. Maybe he too was a warrior? The Warrior noticed the other man didn't seem to have any belongings, nothing to identify who he was. This the Warrior found strange, for how can someone be without identity? The Warrior paused in his journey and watched the other man approach, and as the other man came near, the Warrior also noticed that the man looked haggard; his clothing rumpled, his hair disheveled, his eyes unfocussed and darting to and fro.

     The Warrior paused in his journey and sat, cross legged, at the side of the road waiting for the man. As the man walked by, the Warrior asked, "Sir, would you like to sit with me and enjoy some refreshment? You look like you could use a rest." The other man started, as if he hadn't seen the Warrior, and turned to look at where the voice came from, finally seeing the Warrior for the first time. With trepidation, the man thanked the Warrior, and joined him at the side of the road.

     "What brings you down this path, Sir?", asked the Warrior, offering the man beside him his flask and a chunk of bread and cheese from his pack.

     "I am going to fight in a battle that I heard about." Ah, thought the Warrior, the man is a Fighter. This explained his tired and anxious appearance, as well as his lack of belongings. He would lose a bit of himself wherever he fought. "Are you not going to the battle?", asked the Fighter.

     The Warrior looked back down the road, where he came from, and quietly replied, "No, that is not a fight I need to be involved in. I moved on as they were all fighting...there was no one to defend."

     "What do you mean there was no one to defend? If they were fighting, doesn't someone always need defending? Isn't there always someone in the wrong who should be defeated?"

     "No, kind Sir, there isn't. Those who need defending are the ones who aren't in the battle. They are the ones who need protecting from those who choose sides, from the ones who have passed judgment."

     The Warrior watched the Fighter, to see if he understood what was being said. The only thing the Warrior saw in the Fighter's eyes was confusion, and a hint of righteousness. "I can see, kind Sir, that your views differ from mine. Would you like to discuss this over more wine, and bread?"

     The Fighter cocked his head to one side, faintly squinted at the Warrior and drew his sword closer. The Fighter was getting ready to decide which side of the fight he is going to be on. The Warrior, reached out his hand, holding the flask and offered the Fighter another quenching sip. The Fighter took the flask and said, "all right then, tell me; why you battle to defend and not to defeat?"

     So the Warrior, took a breath, gathered his thoughts and spoke.

     "With each battle to be fought, there are many sides. There are those who say they are right, which makes the other wrong, and the wrong say they are right, and that makes the other wrong. They are all fighters. They battle to win, to not lose, to save face and to prove their worth. That is not a reason to battle. There are those who are innocent, neither right nor wrong, and yet they suffer the most for they have lost everything because the others fight to prove their point. Those are the ones I battle for."

     The Fighter looked at the Warrior and with puffed chest, prepared to speak. But, the Warrior put his hand gently on the Fighter's arm and looked into his eyes with gentle heart and peaceful spirit. There was no fight to be had. The Warrior held the Fighter's gaze and continued.

     "To be a warrior, to defend, means choosing to battle for the innocent, not to fight for or against someone, but to stand beside those who need help, because they are unable to defend themselves. The warrior must use his staff to hold the fighters at bay, and if needs be, push them back. The warrior does not chose a side of right or wrong, but protects the innocent from more suffering. Can you see the difference, kind Sir?"

     The Fighter pondered what the Warrior had said, and was silent for a moment. And then, with a voice that spoke of uncertainty and fear, asked, "but how do you know who to fight for? Doesn't choosing a side fuel your desire to fight for right, to defeat what is wrong in the world? Are not the innocent defended if there is no wrong?"

     "To choose a side is to feed the fear of those who think they are right", said the Warrior, with sadness. "They are fighting to remain as they are, to not give any ground, to remain rigid in their thinking. They need find a common vision to battle for. With vision man finds focus, and a path that will lead him somewhere new, somewhere all people can live in peace, where there is no loss of innocents."

     "But how do I know who I am if I don't pick a side?"

     "You know who you are by those things you carry with you. If you are always fighting someone else's battles, you have no time to gather your own thoughts, your own ideas, your own beliefs. If you choose their battles, you will only carry those things that belong to other people."

     "How can it be wrong to choose a side? When I choose a side, they always win and there is no more battle." The Fighter was struggling with his thoughts, the confusion and angst clearly showing on his weathered face.

     The Warrior thought for a moment, his next words were important to him, and he needed to get them just so. "This isn't about right or wrong. When we choose a side, then there is just one more person on that side and they will win; there are more people. The fighter chooses a side because they want to be on the right side. A warrior battles for his vision; a vision of peace, of a better way, of a better life for him and those around him."

     The Warrior paused, looked at the Fighter and asked him to rise and walk with him for a bit as his body was sore and needed to move. The Fighter agreed, and they carried on down the path the Warrior was taking. As they walked side-by-side in silence, the Warrior gathered his thoughts, getting ready to speak again. When he was ready he gently spoke, "my tools are my shield and my staff. My shield I use to protect others from the barbs and arrows being thrown at them so that they may stand tall. My staff I use to help those who have fallen get up, so that they can lean on it while they regain their path. I use my staff to create a safe place for them to walk, clearing obstacles in their way. I don't fight for them, I struggle with them as they find their own way to carry on. Their peace is my peace, their strength is my strength, only until they are able to support themselves."

   The Fighter was silent as he walked beside the Warrior, and the Warrior respected the silence. He understood the struggle to be had when a fighter's purpose has been challenged. He, too, was a fighter in his past. His sword used to cut others down, his shield protected only himself as he fought. One day, he met another warrior and learned to find his own vision. After a time of travels in comfortable silence, and sharing of more drink and food, the Warrior carried on with his story.

     "The sword I carried in my past, when I was a fighter, was used to cut down bramble until it was no longer sharp. Then it was used to make furrows in hard, dry land until it was rusted and crumbling. From the bramble I fashioned this staff, and was able to help herd the sheep and keep the wolves at bay. With my shield I was able to collect and carry water from the stream to quench thirst. When I wasn't fighting other people's battles I was able to find my own path, to defend and help those who needed it. I was a warrior for those who needed help, I helped them battle to make their own vision a reality. While helping them, I found my own vision, my way through the dark and into the light. I don't fight for right or wrong, I battle for good. I carry with me my peace, my thoughts and my vision, as easily as I carry my staff. My time is my own, and my heart is filled with the relief brought to the eyes of those I help. Their smiles the only thanks I need."

    The Fighter stopped walking, and turned his face to the sky an expression of relief visible on his face. His shoulders relaxed and the sword, which he had been carrying at the ready, slowly dipped to touch the ground. The Fighter turned towards the Warrior, and with pride in his voice, asked, "kind Sir, may I travel with you a while?"

     "Kind Sir, you would be a welcome travel companion, until you find your own path, and your own vision to follow."       

Life Is Not Perfect...I Don't Care What Your Facebook Says

A discussion between myself and a couple ladies last night turned towards social media. One of the comments was, "Facebook is to show the world how perfect your life is." There was also a comment about how it is used to share things, express ourselves, and support each other,  - my thought was, "why can't we share the bad things, express our darkness, and support each other through the hard times?" Please don't get me wrong, I am grateful for the positive and have noticed that too much negative also brings me down, but to deny the negative entirely creates a false existence. My frequent though is, "why are so many people afraid to show their vulnerability, including myself?"

I have to admit, I have been posting things that have been bothering me lately, but for me it has been an exercise in trust. Facebook has provided me with a pseudo-safe place to express my heart, be silly, be vulnerable (a task I find EXTREMELY difficult) with minimal risk of getting hurt.  I have put my trust in those who I have befriended on Facebook. That being said, I have been hurt a few times, but I am stronger for it. I am able to determine who I can trust and who I can't, who will ridicule me and who won't, and who supports me and who doesn't, without the face-to-face conflict that turns me into a whirling-dervish of anxiety. The interesting part is that those who have disappointed, I have not removed as friends. Why you ask? Well, maybe you don't...but I will tell you anyways. I haven't removed them as they have taught me something and I consider those on my Facebook my family. My family have taught me how to be more resilient, how to be more empathetic, how to be stronger. If you want to unfriend me because you don't like what you read, or are uncomfortable with it, then I accept and respect that. I am sad that you feel that way, but I respect it.

So in the interest of disclosure, and to give you all the opportunity to decide who it is you want in your Facebook feed, here is what I am about....

I am a work in progress. I am an eternal optimist and a hopeless romantic, but I have an equally existent dark side. My thoughts frequently turn to those I love. They also ruminate on what I am capable of if someone were to hurt those same people in my presence. I am prone to a violent side, which perplexes me since, as I previously mentioned, I don't like conflict. I am passionate in my love, my joy and my anger. Although, you will rarely see that passion as it is a part of my vulnerability. If you have had the opportunity to see me passionate about anything, then I hold you close to my heart. I am a conqueror of fears. I have big fears, little fears and things in between. What I don't have is a fear of facing them. Some fears send me in to a full blown panic attack, but I go as far as I possibly can without breaking down. Because of these fears, I have learned to be adventurous. I enjoy an adrenaline rush. I delight in the new, and crave they un-tried. The same can be said for my raw side - some might call it "R" rated. If you know me at all, I can make anything dirty and have adventurous and varied ideas about sexuality. Sex has never been something that I have shied away from. It is a part of our existence and humanity; and hey, there are whole sections of the bible that are dedicated to it. It's a big deal. I have a vice or two (or three). I have tattoos. I tell bad jokes. I am awkward around people I care about, and confident with acquaintances. I have curves, and some are in places where they shouldn't be. I don't think I am attractive, but I know I have a good heart. I help people too much, sometimes those who take advantage of me, but I would rather do that than be a parasite.

Here is what I am not - judgmental. No matter how you choose to live your life, so long as you do no harm to children or animals, and all parties involved consent then your life is your own. I don't care if you are gay, straight, bi, transgender, a fuzzy or a serial one night stander. Seriously, I don't care - I don't even want to know. I believe every person has the right to find love and acceptance with those who feel the same way. Brotherhood can be found in church, at work, among friends and within any kind of community of like-minded individuals. I am not satisfied with the status quo. If I perceive a problem, I will help to provide a solution. If it's my problem, I will try to fix it. But most importantly, I am not perfect, and I don't want to be. Perfect is boring. I revel in the imperfections of life. I find the mess and challenges of life the most interesting for it is the difficulties that define us. I am not you, nor are you me and for that I am eternally thankful; for I want to know you and all your sides, or as many as you want to show me.

Partial PTSD...It's a Thing

Today I learned that there is such a thing as partial PTSD. Well holy shit if I didn't almost fall off my chair. It was such a revelation to me...and explains a whole freaking lot of shit I have been dealing with. I did a bit of research (reputable websites only of course) and learned that one can have partial PTSD if they have a number of symptoms from certain groups of symptoms that are used to diagnose PTSD. Now, all this being said, I only have a hunch that my mental health issues I have been dealing with (i.e. suicidal ideation, depression, anxiety, feelings of being isolated, etc.) all tick boxes. However, I still need to talk to someone about it all. I know people, people better than I, who are dealing with PTSD and I have never thought that I had anything in common with them. Does a diagnosis of "partial" make the syndrome "less than" a full diagnosis? Does it even matter? Since I have been dealing with all this since my mid-teens, and seeking help and therapy for each issue as it comes up, I have actually been coping and growing. But, if I get an official diagnosis, would that mean that I can get focused therapy/treatment and deal with issues more effectively? Interesting concept at the very least.