Witch Doctors and Drinking

[Guest guest]

Growing up as I did, and in the religion that was part of it, we were

taught to never fight, always turn the other cheek. I'm not sure who

sent out the notice ahead, but from the time I started first grade, it

was a known fact I wouldn't fight.

And if you want a magnet for fights, let it get out you won't engage. It

will be like blood cells rushing to to the site of a bodily injury to

combat infection.

I don't know how it started, just that it seemed to be a larger part of

my early school life. I don't think a day went by that I wasn't

confronted by several kids, ready to trip me up in one way or another,

literally, and in ways to make sure I'd get in some sort of trouble,

usually resulting in a " spanking " .

In those days, the boys were drug out in the hallways and paddled with a

thick piece of wood as punishment. And if a teacher needed to do that,

they had to be right, and so resulted in a super beating once you

arrived home. Funny thing though, the girls never received

spankings...must have been all that sugar and spice stuff they talked

about.

I would end up standing there, blocked in the hallway, or finding myself

out on the field outside someplace, prevented from going anywhere and

receiving a pretty good beating pretty much about nothing. I simply

turned the other cheek, as much as I could.

I still don't look at my pictures from when I was that young. I always

had this smile and glow that would break glass. It couldn't have been

happiness...but, who knew any better.

I even had a teacher, now, as I understand it, the principal of the same

school now, who had me walk back and forth across the stage that was in

the classroom, because I had hurt my leg, and demanded I walk it off.

This after having brought a note from a doctor that said to keep me out

of sports for a few days, which was fine with me.

He ended up taking me in the bathroom with half the class to have me

take off my pants and show him the problem. Who questions what an adult

says, much less a teacher anyway. So I went home and told my mom, and my

aunt, who was visiting.

Now, my aunt, being maybe 24 at the time, single, working in the city,

having both a brother and many friends in the trucking industry, had

learned to carry a gun in her purse for protection, and could handle

herself very well.

This was something I didn't know about for years, but she stayed over,

and went into school the next day, getting him to the bathroom and

sticking a gun down his pants told him that if he ever even dreamed of

bothering me again, she was going to commit herself to changing him into

a female post haste. Somehow, he never bothered me again.

At any rate, much of my first several years of school were me getting

the hell beat out of me more than not...and me...smiling like a damned

idiot. The fun started later.

When my brother Mike started school, everything changed, sort of. Now,

I've got 3 brothers...Mike being the middle one, Tim and I use to pick

on him a lot. I mean sticking him in garbage cans, pulling pranks on

him, whatever " brotherly love " we could come up with. was the

one who could go into the woods without coming out with some baby

something.

Birds, squirrels, rabbits, owls, you name it, he's found and became it's

mother. He swears it was always because the mother had died or

something. We called him a witch doctor, something mom beat us for too.

There must have been another memo go out about him when he stared school

as well...

Most of the fights tapered off that I found myself in because one

couldn't get started without Mike all of a sudden appearing out of

nowhere, running down the hallway with a broken mop handle, eyes rolled

back in his head, sounding like a witch straight out of hell. Guys would

fall all over themselves trying to get up and out of the way. They were

literally scared to death of him...a first grader.

A fight begin, Mike ended it. How he even knew, or got there just at the

right time I'm not sure I'll ever know...but there he was.

That's the way I grew up. I stood there, maybe it was learned from

standing there while getting one of those beatings where if you cry, it

would be more. Now, that takes lots of practice...lots of practice.

I'll admit, I hate pain of any kind. I especially hate needles, and may

be why I'd never make a good drug addict...lol, I've nearly knocked out

nurses who attempted it....and by accident....keep them away and we'll

be friends.

I learned and knew how to fight and picked most of that up in both the

Army and in martial arts to some degree. Of course, it was more along

the lines of the Kung Fu movies, where the whole purpose is to not

fight...there's always another way.

I could get pulled off a bar stool, spin around and.....do nothing. Or,

if it hit me just right, we'd go outside alright, but somewhere between

heading that way and before a first punch, we'd be shaking hands and

ready to buy each other drinks. Don't ask me what would happen, I'm not

real sure.

And the times there was a " first strike " , I'd turn away and look back,

and it's as if the other person came to their senses or something else

would happen, and there was rarely ever a second time.

Oh, I've felt the surge of energy when in a fight, one that wasn't

merely to strike back but a different energy like the entire universe

surging in my veins in what could only become an explosion if released.

I scared myself when this would happen, and perhaps even others, as my

whole face would go blank, and nothing else existed in the world. I knew

if I released, there would be no turning back, and death would result.

Maybe everyone feels that in such a case, but I'm not sure....something

inside would require me not to act...something greater than me. That's

the way it's always been...yet...

It has been many many years since I've found myself in any such

position. I don't think anyone likes to confront or fight. It takes

being in a frame of mind, and in a place, where it becomes possible

first.

Maybe I was looking earlier on for a way to reach back and take the

power I was never allowed to use, when it should have been. I found

myself, hesitating in almost everything I ever did because of this...I

always thought twice. Call it a blessing or curse, but I'd think out all

the possible senerio's and outcomes in my head, instantly. More than

not, sometimes, inaction became even more powerful than reaction.

How many times do we react, without thinking, when we find ourselves in

situations that seem to come out of nowhere? Do we exert our energies

fighting something, leaving us weakened and frustrated, when we could be

stronger by allowing reflection first...stepping back and trying to see

the bigger picture?

When we get hit by life, do we stand our ground but wait...trying to see

all sides of what's happening, or jump right in and become part of the

turmoil taking place? When you wait...allowing yourself to think, and

build energies that will come to you, the universe will even send " witch

doctors " out of nowhere to aid you.

We've all caught ourselves on one side or another of something we feel

drawn into, yet, we never have to engage it. It is always our choice to

become more than what's taking place. We become much stronger by taking

the energy into ourselves, and feeling the expansion. And in doing this,

we become stronger and draw powers to us that would not be there

otherwise.

As we mature in thinking, we mature in the power available...and

resources and possibilities become clearer.

You don't have to attack or protect from everything that comes to bare

on you. The truth is, more times than not, whatever or whomever it is

may be more scared than you in the matter, and have found themselves

drawn into something they may feel they have no way out of. Be the first

to give them a way out...even when they throw a first punch, your

reaction, with love, may be the healing they need to happen...and that

my friends is worth having a drink over.

Love D~

copyright2007knightsintent[dc]