Fight, Fight, Fight

Fighting fascinates me. I wonder about its purpose sometimes. Its many manifestations. Its goals.

Defense obviously. But what mysterious forces in us are triggered to know it is time to fight and when it is time to beat the retreat? Hope figures large in this I think. If there is a fight spoiling to happen, and we have a notion we can prevail, we engage.

I am currently in that position where I have engaged in the fight. I am operating on hope and will until I no longer can.

There are so many different kinds of fights. Boxing comes to mind. Fencing, too. And then the largely orchestrated (think WWF) and much narrower world of competitive sports. Not a platform available to everyone and not “fighting” per se. There is fierce competition at play in every basketball, football, baseball, soccer and every other sports match.

And then there is the big one: life. I’m not sure how intentionally we are prepared for the daily fight we all engage in. The methodologies of how we fight that every day fight vary as wildly as the individuals in it.

Preparation for life takes many different forms. We call it education. We call it character building. We call it “learning to play nice with others.” Through our activities growing up, we learn the rules of how to be in life and act on what we believe it takes to succeed and excel.

The fallacy that is perpetuated, of course, is that we all have an even shot at the spoils of living. We know it isn’t true. We know that many different factors influence our chances for success in life. Indeed, it is our background that determines the type of education we get or have access to.

I am currently engaged in a fight that matters to me. A lot. What I am currently reflecting on is how to approach this fight. In the past, I sat on committees and boards where I went to the wall for what I believed I wanted or believed in. I researched ad infinitum. I spoke ad nauseam. My perception of what I wanted to get out of the fight often seem a bit silly in retrospect.

I am fairly aware I am fighting a losing battle. Still I am compelled to fight. I believe it will be important to me to look back and know that I stood up for myself. That in the face of odds weighted in my opponent’s favor, I did not back down or just slink away.

I am less shrill and desperate than I have been in past fights. I am using different strategies. Stall tactics. Dragging my feet. Asking for more information. Digging desperately through building codes and wildlife preservation regulations. Approaching our HOA for advice and background and direction. (A largely impotent exercise based on early information that came back to me.)

Doing it this time while maintaining my cool.

That’s a big difference from my usual modus operandi. In the past, I left a lot of broken relationships and bad feelings in the wake of my certitude and aggressive “take no prisoners” approach.

I am approaching it differently this time. I am doing so if, for no other reason, these people may very well be my neighbors in the not-too-distant future.

I don’t like it one little bit and I am doing everything in my power to avert that outcome. Meanwhile, I have to concede that may very well be the outcome.

Best prepare myself to suck it up.

If it is, what am I going to do about it? The bigger fight about that is going on within me. Most of the greatest fights in my life always have.

Jeff Brown, Redux

When you’re good, you’re good. I have followed Jeff Brown with equal measures of respect and resonance for some time now. His writing is consistently strong and insightful. His new book, Humanifestations (link below this post), is another marker on his journey to make sense of the human condition.

Brown’s most recent post (below) resonated strongly.

He points out a human tendency to credit exceptional creative output or the deeper insights of talented individuals as “Gifts of the Divine.” He disputes this and calls out the human tendency to hide our light under bushels. I both agree and disagree with him.

Brown argues that if humanity believes the wondrous works exhibited by individuals are based only on external factors, it discourages us from accessing and owning what is inherently great and gifted in ourselves. Without owning it, Brown suggests, humanity will continue to marinate in mediocrity.

Jeff Brown argues – the former lawyer dies hard – that his writing insights and clarity have come from the hard emotional work necessary to overcome a difficult childhood.

Again I agree and disagree with him. I had a hard childhood. I have done a ton of personal “work.” At the same time, I also feel I was given a “gift” for writing. And, yes, sometimes it feels like a Divine “gift.” Sometimes I have written things that I have to read over and over again to fully get what I have written. I cannot fully credit or connect what I have written with “me.”

Dale Estey, a dear author friend, and I have a throughline in our friendship. We often talk about our mutual belief in what we call “invisible hands” that overtakes our writing. We agree we do not always consciously “think up” what we write. How words get put together often feels unbidden. Painters, dancers, and even athletes all speak of this phenomenon, too. Think Flashdance.

Jeff Brown is right. Humans tend to downplay genius when they find intimations of it in themselves. Or credit a “higher power.” Well, I also believe there could be “something else” at work in the creative process.

For the love of god, do not ask me what that something is or ask me to explain it. For the most part, our society is just plain incompetent at handling “the gifted.” A perfect storm of luck and opportunity, and will is needed. It takes a certain social alchemy for a child’s gifts to be recognized early, encouraged, and supported to develop their talent over the long haul.

And it can be a very long haul, fraught with emotional and other landmines. [Read the late Swiss psychologist Alice Miller’s The Drama of the Gifted Child for an analysis of this dilemma.]

I am happy to feature Jeff Brown on my blog again as he triggered one of the biggest issues I have faced in writing. My work or god’s work? Who’s to say? And to what end? Who knows?

All I know is that it is a good thing when coherent messages that promote the value of each human life get pushed out there – over and over again. Because we are human and need to be frequently reminded of that.

Whether humanitarian messages come from “the Divine” or are a distillation of our own hard-won insights that come from processing “hard things” is more or less immaterial to me. Any writing that promotes a greater appreciation for the sanctity of humanity and individuals gets my support – whether it comes from Divine inspiration or inspiration from deep within ourselves.

Take it away, Jeff Brown … Let me know what you think, dear readers. It is a legitimate point of contention for debate and wider discussion. Jeff Brown argues his point brilliantly. Like the genius he is.

I went through a particularly potent writing phase some years ago. I was writing one clarified quote after another, and immediately sharing them in social media. What I found interesting was that many people would come onto my walls, and remark that I was “channeling.” At first, I imagined this a good thing. As though I had somehow formed a bond with the Divine, and the Divine was using me to bring their m, I arrived at a different perspective. I had worked long and hard, and overcome much, and whatever insights I had arrived at did not come from the beyond. They came from within me, from the heart of my lived experience, from the depths of my story. And then I looked closer at many of the ways that we associate moments of achievement with something beyond ourselves: “Her performance was out of this world”, “He rose above his circumstances and channeled greatness,” “Her genius is heaven sent,” “He has found his DIVINE purpose.” It is as though we are only allowed to own our mediocre achievements. Anything clarified or brilliant or awesome had to come from somewhere beyond our humanness. Little wonder our views of enlightenment and awakening are frequently associated with transcendence. We haven’t been taught that we are the marvel, and that our lived and learned experience is the source of our most profound creations. If we don’t come to get this, if we continue to bury our magnificence below a bushel of judgment, we will continue to look for our greatness outside of ourselves and our species will never actualize its possibilities. Because we really are marvel-us 🙂. Each of us, a living marvel...”