Ok, selfish rant. There, you've been warned. Usually, I enjoy knowing my posts have been read, but this time I really don't care whether it is or not. This just feels good to write.
I am many things. I'm an archer, an enthusiastic (if un-talented) actor, a pool player, a lackluster student, an eccentric musician, and a martial artist. And I'm a guy. This is significant because being a guy means having certain typical desires and mentalities. I'm also simple, or at least, I try to be. When life starts getting more complicated, it's harder for me to see the good times in it.
You know what else I am? I'm tired. I'm tired of all the challenges in my life being nothing but mental challenges, or challenges of maturity. I'm tired of having an enemy I can't wrap my hands around and beat because it's my enemy. "Be patient, Bobby. Mental challenges are more important." You know what else I'm tired of? Hearing that. I know it's true, but once, dear God, just once, not only would it be nice to have and overcome some kind of physical challenge, but also to let it have meaning and substance!
This is the 21st century, not some fairy tale. Fire breathing dragons don't exist. The only dragons that are real anymore are invisible, threatening to drive me absolutely crazy because in order to overcome them, I must first submit and bend to their rules, obeying them, no matter what they may ask of me. They also drive me nuts because as if this wasn't bad enough, they are unseen. There is no physical challenge to it! And once I succeed, what reward is there? A piece of sheepskin. Sure, what it symbolizes is enormously important for the rest of my life, and if I don't succeed, life is going to be a heck of a lot harder, longer, and stress laden...but it's still nothing but a piece of SHEEPSKIN! How did such a thing get to be so important, anyway? The writing on it, I suppose is what's more important, but you know, it just doesn't feel quite as satisfying.
I was a national champion, once. I was 17, and it was my last chance to win this title before I would have to step up and start competing against the 18-32 year olds. And you know something? I didn't just win that tournament. I took it by storm! Afterwards, my instructors said they had never seen me perform so well. Since I won the pattern part of it, when I faced off against the winner of the sparring part, they took his pattern score, subtracted it from my pattern score, then took that difference and doubled it, giving that number to me as a lead for this final match. There was no way he was going to win. He would have had to score 15 points in 2 minutes!
I don't care that I got a medal for it, and I don't care that I wear a jacket that now says "2000 National Champ" on the back. All I care about is that I fought and I won. I earned that title with nothing but my own body. I did not stop to think the entire match! All was instinct, trained reflex and God's blessing, and I LOVED it!
I felt invincible for weeks afterwards. But when school started back up again, the feeling faded, and why? Because in the real world, it didn't matter that I had just had my life's crowning, glorious achievement. I still had to make grades so I could graduate, get into college, get a degree so that I could get a job to earn money. My employers won't give a rat's rootie-patootie that I was once at the top of my game and could break four boards with a single blow. Four! That's the equivalent to a human skull, for crying out loud!
I hate it. I hate the fact that in this fallen world, even heroes have to bend to the ways of broken life. You know who I look up to? The people I want to emulate and be like? Not scholars, certainly, and DEFINITELY not intellectuals, theologians or philosophers. No, I look up to warriors! When I tried out for the Bartlett PD, you know what my eventual goal was? Not police chief or commissioner! SWAT team! Specifically, a sniper. I wanted to learn how to shoot well so that I could take down those people who wanted to hurt others, and do it well. And I still do!
I want to confront evil with a sword in my hand, not a book! I want to feel the edge of my blade biting deep and tearing it to pieces in righteous fury, not arguing it down in a debate! I want to yell my throat raw in a war cry lifted up to Heaven while my heart pounds in my ears and my feet dance in glorious combat! I SWEAR, there is NOTHING like it in the world!
:: sigh:: But it will never happen. I must resign myself to this. I begin to think now the closest I will ever get to real combat is in the SCA, and I think that with time, I can learn to live with that.
I am many things. I am also glad I wrote this. Now, maybe I can get back to living life and recognizing it for what it is...and learning to enjoy it.
About Me
- Bobby
- I think I found out last year that my chief passion is archery. I do nothing as often as I shoot. But it's all traditional. I only shoot stickbow.
The Hunter's Map
4 comments:
Awwww, Bobby....:(
It's not a sheepskin.....it's a symbol....like your jacket, or a trophy, or a medal. It's a sybol of dedication, of perserverance, of knowledge....it a key to get you through your next door. It's like the ACT in high school....you had to play the game and get it so you could go to the next step. You can do it, Bobby!!!! You have so much support, so many that love you, and so much to gain. I have faith in you.
I'm sorry you are sick of it; I'm sorry you are discouraged. But I do know when you walk across that stage, with all of us cheering madly, you will be on top of the world.
Hang on for dear life.....
Remember in Mt. Doom....Sam says to Frodo, "Don't you let go." We are your Sam....you are tired, and sad, and frustrated and want to give up. Don't. Good things are ahead.
By the way....did you see the season finale of CSI??????
Oh, babe. I feel you, I really do. I may be more of the intellectual type, but I feel your frustration in other areas. To be precise, I feel like I've been fighting steadily my inner demons for the past year. With God's help, I feel like I've made enormous strides...and then He, in His wisdom, broght up some other things. Practically the exact moment that I finally feel reconciled about my parents' divorce, He goes and reminds me of something else I have to work through. And I'm tired, worn to the bone. I hear you. We're both saying, How long must I bend down my will? How long until I see some real results of all this crap I'm having to go through? The answer to both of us, dear brother, is that someday, we'll see a pattern for this time in our lives. Someday it'll all have a purpose. Until then, we just have to hang in there, grit out teeth, and plow through. You didn't get to be national champion without a great deal of personal effort, right? I know that the difference between that and this is because you ENJOYED it. Still, the foundation is there. Before you know it, you'l have that dreadfully uncomfortable sheepskin and you can move on with your life. And I'll be here, cheering you along you way, for every second of it. I miss you.
Awesome picture!
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