When we grow up, we do not realize the war we begin fighting; I didn’t anyway. It is like we become survivalist on some level, willing to do whatever it takes to find a moment of peace. The one moment where the tightness in our chest subsides and you can just breathe. When we grow up the war never feels fair.
It seems like an oxymoron to realize we are fighting for peace. Where some of us are in the trenches, in the muck, utilizing the people in our lives to stand on so we do not drown in it. And others are happy to sacrifice themselves, for the greater good. Each individual intricately labeled, so we all can be equally confused; martyr, warrior, narcissist, female, male, gay, straight, black, white, Asian, Latino, check this box for classification that never is clear or definitive about anything that is more real. The lines blur and I rarely accept the superficial or obvious about anyone. Growing up in a world riddled with war, just feels like the deafening static that becomes our lives.

I fool myself into thinking this is not a blind reality I live; that I am not this survivalist who utilizes the people in my life to stand on. I do not want to drown in the muck and I am not good as a martyr. Each of us participates in this war on some level despite the righteousness we feel we may possess. We buy into the noise cloaked in justice, security, and sympathy. Forgetting the importance of honor, integrity and solidarity. When I was younger, I never felt this war would exist outside my family. I began training at a young age, ignorant of what it all meant or purpose of the harsh realities most of pretend do not exist.

I need to zoom my lens out and adjust the focus. Welcome the dark part of myself I try to hide. Rationalizing on some level, I deserve this, I want this and it is okay. Meanwhile, those weary souls that are keeping me a float, above the muck, sacrificing parts of themselves for me, begin to weigh me down. And I begin to sink in the truth of who I have become while surviving. This grown up warfare is a projection of what I learned a long time ago. I feel safe in it. It is known. Who would I be without my grown up war? I would be vulnerable and scared. To sit with myself in the silence, without my martyrs, has me reaching for the “yum” like it is the air I breathe. Peeling back all the layers will take forever and still we will be distracted by the distant noise of those connected to us. I would like to say I am a great friend, a reliable ally, and a solid individual, however the truth is I am flaky, ambiguous and too selfish to even pretend anymore. I value honor, integrity, truth and solidarity. I wear them as symbols of what I want to create around me; unconscious reminders of the purpose of my self created war. The more years that pass the louder the noise becomes, the tighter the grip is felt in my chest and most days only shallow breathes are felt. All this was here before, within me, and continues to remind me. I cannot have the fact that I am this survivalist who utilizes the people in my life to survive on some level to be validated, because I do not want to drown in the muck, in the trenches that are too deep for me alone. War = Peace only in the grown up projected movie screen in life. I have decided to stop watching the movie and participate in the life without the war. Wish me luck!

Friendship by Kahlil Gilbran
Your friend is your needs answered.
He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
And he is your board and your fireside.
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.
When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the “nay” in your own mind, nor do you withhold the “ay.”
And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.
And let your best be for your friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.