Yesterday, I ran across a post that really punched me in the face. Yes, that pun was very much intended. It was a super cool canvas rendition of the fight between Rocky and Ivan Drago, and after having thought about it literally all day and night, this is what I’ve come up with …
Gia and I are huge Rocky fans, as was Zack. Rocky IV is my favorite, because in my mind I have always felt it’s been “me against the Devil” in both the brightest and darkest moments of my life, and he’s the one always saying to me, “I MUST BREAK YOU”! Yet, I absolutely refuse to let him take me down!
Ironically, one of my all-time favorite songs, “No Easy Way Out”, is from the Rocky IV soundtrack. The Sunday night before he killed himself, it was playing in the car on our way home from the gym, and he was crying as he squeezed my hand three times (“I – Love – You”). Five nights later, he was gone. The mask came off and his fight was over. Meanwhile, I’ve listened to this song over and over and over in the last 62 days, just thinking, reflecting, remembering, and “wanting to know why”. But at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Zack’s fighting days are done. He lost. Went down. Tapped out. Still, my fighting days are not done yet, ’cause guess, what people? I’M STILL HERE! Am I bloodied and bruised with black eyes, a fat lip, and some scars that are here for the rest of my lifetime? Absolutely!
There have been so many days this last twenty years, even in my most broken, wandering aimlessly, bent out of shape, completely incoherent, mangled, and twisted of mindsets, that I’ve looked at myself in the mirror and said:
Good grief woman, how in the HELL are you still standing? Why HAVEN’T you given up yet? WHY HASN’T THAT FUCKIN’ DEVIL BROKEN YOU YET and how the FUCK are you alright?
The only answer I ever come up with is this one:
IT’S HIM! NOT ME!
Please understand that in no way do I believe I’m more special, gifted, blessed, or talented than anyone else. I mean, am I actually God’s favorite daughter? You know, I’m really starting to think so. Nevertheless, this “risen to power and grace” divine apostrophe I’ve become is all HIS doing, I just know it. There IS no explanation as to why I, too, haven’t taken the easy way out after of all the years of pain and suffering that have tried to snuff me out.
God handed me this heavyweight belt I wear for what reason I will never understand. Zero did I earn it and zero do I deserve it, but speaking of great fighters, Jean-Claude Van DAMN am I honored to have it! It’s the most valuable thing I possess, that cost Him everything and me NOTHING, other than my completely blind faith in “the process”. I realize, of course, that some don’t understand this, and, in fact, may think its lunacy to believe in something I cannot touch or see. But I can’t touch or see the wind either, can I? It doesn’t make either it or it’s effects very real to me. So, with that, I am Rocky, the devil is Ivan Drago, the God I serve is the referee, and I … am … WINNING!
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