About Kidney Punches And The River

Post 214:

            It ain’t always going to go the way you want. In fact, it rarely does. So much of life is dealing with the fallout, the afterwards of some completely unexpected thing that wreaked more damage than you could’ve ever anticipated.  

            It’s so brazen, this world. It’s like being in a boxing ring, getting kidney-punched until you spit blood—all the while your corner is telling you stand tall, cover up, make it to the next round.

            And guess what’s waiting in the next round…More kidney punches.

            So what do we do in the face of such daunting odds?

            Fight.

            Not because I’m brave or have any real answers, but because there’s nothing else to do. Rocky is a beautiful story because of one thing—he wouldn’t stay down.

            We have every right to go down. It’s all against us, all in our face, making us bleed and suffer and wonder why we ever stepped into the ring at all.

            But some go on. And on. And those are the ones we celebrate. Those are the ones they make movies about, fictional or true. There’s a raging river that needs crossing. After that, another. It most likely won’t drown you. So step out into the current, let it buffet you till you think you’ll be washed away. Keep your footing. Remember your dad and your mom and everyone you’ve ever loved while you make your way across. They want you to make it. You want to make it. Go on then, brothers and sisters. Go on and step out onto the other side. There’s another river up ahead, and you need your strength.

            See you after.