Rocky Balboa

I’ve always liked to use metaphors in explaining my life. I think it is something about evoking visual explanations to convey my thoughts more thoroughly. Or I just like to spell things out in vivid descriptions.

Of late, I’ve been feeling rather beaten up by life and I’ve begun to explore my experiences in fighting terms. Now, there are several types of fighters I imagine could relate to my predicament. The first and last on my list I will reject since I don’t believe either fit who I am. They are the two polar opposites: the bully and the Zen master. I’d like to think that I am not a bully, someone who doesn’t care about getting to the top at the expense of others, who might be mean just for sport or picks on others who are weaker or just plain different than themselves. And though I’d love to be like Zen masters who keep things simple and choose to not get involved in conflict or, if it is unavoidable, use love and compassion to disarm the punches that come their way. However, people like that are few and far between and I don’t happen to be one.

I can’t see myself as the heroic aggressor/avenger in life, either. This fighter knows he/she is able to win any fight but uses force only when necessary. I’m not that confident in my abilities nor do I have the same self-control. I don’t think I’m like the early Rocky Balboa, an underdog who takes a beating but in the end, through determined might, wins the match. Even the first Rocky, who got the snot beaten out of him, had such a strong belief in himself and dogged determination, that he kept getting back up, taking the punches and giving back as good as he got. Sure he lost, but like some of the recent political candidates, sometimes coming in second is as good as a win.

Though I also continue to get back up, I can’t attribute it to any sort of determination or belief in my ability. It feels more like I just don’t know any better. Maybe I’m like one of those Bop Bag inflatable punching toys, so weighted at the bottom that I have no choice but to return to upright every time I get knocked down. Maybe I am an optimist believing that each hit will be the last, or perhaps I’m afraid that the beating will be worse if I’m flat on the ground. Maybe I’m responding to the crowd egging me on (remember “Rocky…Rocky… Rocky…”), their encouragement keeping me up on my feet. Or, maybe I’m preparing to run if I can just get out of the ring. All I know is that after each blow, I find myself back up, taking the next blow and the one after that, and the one after that…

In the beginning, each bout made me stronger. My reflexes sharpened as I bounced back or deflected the blows; I developed a sense of self-empowerment and determination not to let this bring me down. It didn’t matter if I won or not, I was able to get up and go one more round, fight one more battle, jump one more hurdle. Many of my earlier posts might reflect that attitude. However, as time has gone by with little time between bouts, my strength is diminishing, my reflexes slowing and my determination wavering. I don’t want to deal with any more struggles. I don’t want to have to cope with the emotional, physical, and anticipated pain that doesn’t ease up. I want to walk out of the ring, win or lose and get on with my life. I don’t wish for death, but I don’t fear it either.

I’ve had breathers, times when I’m outside the ring and things are good and life is treating me well. However, it feels to me that when I find myself back on the mat, life comes out at me with a renewed vengeance after its own bit of respite. I remember taking Aikido many years ago and the idea is to use your opponent’s own force against him, side stepping his advances so that his forward motion tumbles him to the floor. In this manner, you can defeat an opponent much bigger and stronger than yourself. There just doesn’t seem to be a way to side step insurance companies, health problems, personal difficulties, financial concerns and the other issues that face me on the mat.

I’m sure this sounds much worse than it probably is; I *might* I have a small flare for the dramatic . But then again, what I am trying to explaining is not the facts of the matter, but my feelings. I’m also sure that I am not the only one dealing with the physical pains and disabilities of a major illness while trying to fight the insurance and medical establishments. There are many people out there who have major upheavals in their lives, who face financial difficulties and declining health or death of immediate loved ones. I’m not the only one who worries about or grieves for aging and dying pets, must try to live with a restricted diet, both for weight and food sensitivities and spend much of their time going to doctor’s appointments. Everyone deals with the ‘must do’s of everyday life that can be so annoying and frustrating it makes you want to scream. I guess what has me down is that so much of this comes at me all together at one time or one right after the other. I am getting tired.

Oh but that heavy weight keeps my feet on the ground and flips me back up, once again ready to fight the prevailing wind (very mixed metaphor, but this is my blog and I can mix metaphors if I want to!). I can only hope that I can continue to bend and not break. Or, if I am lucky, I can face the wind, and with my eyes closed, pretend I am on the deck of sturdy and stable ship as it sails on blue waters towards fair winds and calm seas