Battles

My life has been a series of screwups and enormous victory - just like everyone else.
I've been training lately, training to fight in a medieval martial art. I've also had some personal issues that I've been dealing with and I act out in ways that are entirely inappropriate.
The things I do seem natural, and resonant with the situation - at the time.  But, later reflection reveals that I'm a fucking cur and say things that don't at all represent who I am.
 
My biggest enemy is myself.
When trying to do the things my knight asks of me in our training sessions my body screams at me. Parts of me burn and ache and my intuition says "Stop, damn you - knock it off".  My intellect tells me: this is how you get better.  This is how you become less of a tub of goo.  That pain is your muscles and joints throwing off the past 15 years of chair captivity.  Yes, there are several voices in my head.
When I push through it, I feel loads better about it.  Last night, leaving Mr. Badasses house I felt fully justified in going home and sitting on my ass.  Throughout the week I'd worked on projects for others and fulfilled my obligations for every person I'd agreed to help.  It felt wonderful, as I contemplated going home and letting those muscles rest.  I'd just done Chibatas (sp? forgive me the spelling.) with my two homies; I'd done enough for the day.
Then I got home and things devolved. I said some things, she said some things - shit was bananas. I'm an asshole sometimes, no matter that my intellect says to me that I'm being over-zealous - the beast inside is so damn overpowering.
This morning, I'm on the verge of another cold/sinus/chest craptastic few days of blech.  I want to curl up in the bed and ready trashy sci-fi until I drift off.  But, there are other people depending on me to be able to get their stuff done.  I'm paid way to much to lie in bed and read Salvatore. The kids have to be woken up and made to eat before class. The world doesn't stop because I have a cold. But my intuition says to hole up and feel sorry for myself.
My enemy is myself.

Comments

And thus, you rise to fight the battle every day--with your body, with your mind, with your soul.   All of them can be cur dogs, but you, the leader of the pack (whereever in yourself you are) push them to be better. 
Rest causes rust; to not be growing is to be dying, and I look forward to crossing swords with you sometime soon. 

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The man behind the curtain

Vincent is above all things, a dad. Time that is not spent learning what it is to be a dad and enjoying that journey is spent immersed in the ever evolving realm of all things digital.  He likes to tinker with anything electronic. Often that means making his android phone do complex, but silly things.  He likes to experiment with new languages and stays current on new development strategies and methods. His life is often consumed with being a middling squire and apprentice Armorer