Saturday, 13 June 2009

• Long ago, in a land far, far away

  
  

  Brighton beach, England,  July 2006
  

  Some personal journeys are more arduous and long winded than others.

   There are those that are filled with ravines, wild beasts, treacherous bog pits and even fire-breathing dragons.

   And there are those, who even with such hostile terrain, manage to navigate it successfully to realize that the sword-wielding hero on the white horse is no one other than themselves.

   I understand that some of us are built tougher or finer than others, but I am always amazed at how much the human spirit (or soul) can take and come out brilliant.

   I was just chatting to a friend about relationships, and eventually we got around to her tenuous relationship with men in general. She is the most positive, reasonable and cool chick you’ll ever meet. It’s not a façade, she is genuinely happy. She’s also independently wealthy, has awesome clothes, great hair and is a gorgeous girl.

   You’d never think that at 13 she was betrayed by a group of people she thought were her friends and raped, spent a year in solitary confinement due to depression, then spent the proceeding ten years being in abusive relationships and eventually at 26 landed in hospital because her then partner had beaten her so badly she blacked out.

   It was on that hospital bed she knew she had to change her life. She didn’t know why she stayed in those relationships or why she took all that crap, was it because she was punishing herself, that somehow that rape was her fault?

   I look at her and go wow, respect. A weaker person would have collapsed and never got back up, but is the opposite true that the experiences make us the person we are today? That she is as strong as she is because of what she has come through?

   That in our most dire moments the instinct to survive kicks in.

   People like her, make me want to slap the people who cry stress and need to go to bed because their boyfriend didn’t bring them out for Valentine’s dinner.

  Or the single mother with four children from four fathers on the dole.

  Or the brilliant, educated woman who’s so used to living with her parents she can’t do anything for herself and yet whinges she can’t find a rich boyfriend.

   Seriously.

   I know we are all built differently to cope with different things, but shit man, be thankful and happy with what you have.

  I personally, am thankful that I have friends with such powerful personal journeys. I am horrified at their ordeals, but I feel blessed that I have them in my life to be inspired by.

  Truly, there is no such thing as the impossible.
  

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