Tuesday, 25 July 2017

Set Fire to the Rain

I never really knew what that meant. I mean, I loved the song but hadn’t a clue what the fuck Adele was singing about. After extensive Googling it turns out that even English teaching forums don’t know either BUT the best guess is that it’s about having the courage to confront a situation that is draining you.

Yeah, can go for that.

Basically I’ve lived my life buoyed by a mix of highs, lows and procrastination. I would have hateful thoughts that I would bring out occasionally and stroke like an albino python, just to keep my spirits from sinking into an oblivion of null and void

Rage, bitterness, unrequited love, anger, frustration…you name it. I had them all from about the age of 4 and they built and built as time went on. My life was a jigsaw puzzle of interlocking shit bits, punctuated occasionally by a corner bit or maybe a piece with a big chunk of the sun on it. 

Anyone who’s read this blog on a regular or even casual basis will have seen the vitriol and venom that I’ve poured out.

I regret none of it as it has proved very therapeutic and was a coping mechanism for what my life has been up to this point.

But…like Adele said. Maybe it’s time to do what seemed impossible. Get rid of an established “normality” and just get on with life.

Recently I flew back to Australia to do 12 days of what was basically a fucking horrible yet at the same time thoroughly enjoyable course in how to be a Krav Maga instructor.

This was just shy of 2 weeks of the most intensive, hard, brutal and soul destroying training in how to teach other people in the finer nuances of an Israeli self defence system. 

I didn’t pass.

I had dragged my scared, vulnerable arse from London to Melbourne to complete the second chunk (whole thing was 24 days, they split it up to avoid having the participants keel over and die). During that time I felt many times like quitting. I faced my own limits and then spat in their faces. I felt like crying. I felt like giving up. I felt tired and weak and sore and unhappy. But I kept going because doing this felt right and pass or fail I knew it was what I wanted to do.

For far too long I have spent my life in some kind of masochistic masturbatory dance over the bad elements of my life. I was badly abused growing up and my imagination provided a refuge to keep my sanity in check and to stop me from becoming suicidal or taking a loaded shotgun to school.

Problem was that this self defence mechanism has existed for much longer than it ever needed to. 

I have defaulted to a dream state of rain and smog and mud and grief and used my own revenge fantasies and vivid imagination to cope with it. A necessity as a frightened, bullied child. A nonsensical and self destructive path for a man in his 40s. 

So now I’ve moved on. I love my life. I’m sitting here with my second beer of the night and I don’t feel the need to drink another one. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. 

Rage has been a switch-to option for a long, long time. Now I know I’ve travelled across the world to prove to myself that I can step up to the plate. I no longer feel the need to caress the scorpion.

I heard a great expression some time ago. It was “This too, will pass”. 

It was meant to be used when facing hardship, trauma or prolonged pain. 

I think for me, it has now passed.

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