If Shakespeare Used The Force
Today’s Words of Wisdom:
“Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day.”
~ Shakespeare, Macbeth
The Foda’s Take: For people with chronic illnesses (or Macbeth), it is so easy to anticipate the daunting doom and drudgery of days to come, fearing they will likely mirror the days that have past. Days filled with frustration and feelings of abandonment from the health and the life you once had. But I’m gonna go ahead and call it right now and guess that Shakespeare, although an epic writer, was a total bloody cynic who never had a Jedi Master teach him how to live in the moment.
Hi everyone! Today I am obsessed with the topic of WARRIORS. Like blue Avatar lady warriors who swing from trees and let out guttural war cries. (Much like Ewoks, come to think of it. Say it with me: AaaaahhEeeeeeeYaaahhhhhh!!!!!!) And the reason why I’m thinking of this is because now that I have a beautiful dream I’m setting my sights on- (Yes, I discussed this in my last post, and no, I’m still not telling what it is. Tsk tsk. PUSHY.)- I have renewed my internal motivation to dedicate my daily choices towards doing all I can to honor and obtain this dream. A huge piece of this, of course, is putting the kibosh on this chronic illness of mine.
So what does this have to do with warriors? Well, my initial impulse was to strap on my blaster holster, craft up my double sided lightsaber (because, really, although The Phantom Menace was pretty hard to watch, that dueling scene with Darth Maul was quite spectacular. What color would my lightsaber be? So sweet of you to ask! I’m thinking cerulean blue. Or violet.) What color would yours be? Huh? Oh, right, sorry! Warriors.
So yeah, I was all about to arm myself up, ready to give life a little one-two-three punch, when I remembered that scene in Empire Strikes Back where Luke is about to enter the dark tree. He asks Yoda what he’ll find in there, and Yoda replies: “Only what you take with you.” Sadly, for those of you who know the story, Luke didn’t listen and brought his weapon, and so wound up battling his own inner demons. So this got me thinking. If I approach this illness blasters-a-blazing, who will I really be fighting? ME. The Lyme Disease is, after all, in my own body. And while I want more than anything to battle this chronic illness, there is a difference between fighting for myself: body, mind and soul, and fighting coup for my kidnapped health by inadvertently throwing my currently invaded body under the landspeeder. (So to speak.)
There are two types of warriors. There’s the kind, like Han, who will blast his way out of trouble. This is a very masculine type of warrior. And in some situations, it works- but not when your enemy combatant has taken sanctuary inside your own body! But there’s also another type of warrior. The one that fights for what she wants without shooting first. She sits back, sees the problem, and curiously, openly, observes the moment, and finds a way around it. Oh, I’m stuck in a compacting garbage disposal? Okay, let me find something to climb on top of. What was Han’s first reaction in this scenario, you may recall? Shooting up a magnetically sealed door. So I ask myself- how can I be this more feminine type of fluid, flexible warrior so that I can fight for what I want without turning the fight on myself? How do I stay fluid so that I’m fighting for a better tomorrow (is this not the longest segue to come back to the quote of the day I’ve ever made?) without getting angry when my tomorrows don’t immediately change?
Simple. Perspective. When Shakespeare wrote this quote, he obviously was thinking in terms of the past, or the future, but definitely not the present. After all, the present doesn’t “creep by” because it’s right now. Like I said. Bloody cynic.
So to be the warrior I wish to be, I must be sure to stay in my present moment, accepting things as they come, and slowly, curiously, find my way around the obstacles I face. Otherwise, I will be fighting blind, entering the dark tree with saber drawn, expecting a fight where there may be none. Or, as my vocal professor in college once told me, live Smarter, not Harder.
So let us close with a rebuttal to Shakespeare’s depressing prose: Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow… will never come a’creeping if you choose to live every day in today.
La Vie Boheme!
AaaaahhEeeeeeeYaaahhhhhh!!!!!! (Warrior Cry)
P.S. Okay, so I knocked on ol’ Willie Shakes a little bit here, but in all seriousness, how beautiful (if not super melodramatic and depressing) is this passage?
“Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.
Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow,
A poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more.
It is a tale told by an idiot
Full of sound and fury
~Macbeth, Act 5 Scene 5