Pistols, protagonists and commandeering an army of one

Several weeks ago, a friend was having a hard time following some personal and professional letdowns. She asked a very simple and poignant question: “How come no one fights for us?”

I had no answer for her, and a defeatist sentiment permeated my skin and sat heavy on my heart for weeks. The haunting possibility that she was right kept me awake for some nights. I started looking closely at everyone around me to see if any of them could be my “great defender” – a coworker siding vocally with my opinion, a friend arguing most vehemently on my behalf, an inamorato who won’t let me just happen. I felt despair at the absence of pistols being drawn at a moment’s notice in my honour.

So absorbed was I by the idea that the world was largely indifferent, that I didn’t think of asking an important question: why should anyone fight for us?

Without an answer in mind, I reconciled myself to the fact that we would have to do our own fighting for all the days to come. I was going to share this realization with my friend; tell her that she’d need to commandeer her army of one and fight for herself, because that’s just the way things are.

As I was writing this response to her, it dawned on me that our situation is actually great.

We grow stronger when we embrace the liberation that comes with having control and mastery over our lives, and stop worrying about finding someone to pick up our banners. If we can’t convincingly play the protagonist in our own scenario, how can we expect anyone to take note of our role?

When you stand convinced of your own actions and value, the number of people who join your ranks expands tenfold. But you have to take the first step so others can see you moving. And trust that if you stumble, they will come out of the woodwork and catch you.

The world fights for us when we fight for ourselves first. No one wants to side with a downcast individual.

Truthfully, I am a little embarrassed it took me this long to see that the broadest shoulders I lean on belong to the quiet ones, those who do not display grandiose or theatrical gestures of heroism – they simply take action and support me when and how they can.

Rather amazing beings, humans.

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8 Discussion to this post

  1. Jim L says:

    I really like this one!

  2. Isabella says:

    Thinking like that is really imssvpriee

  3. zegt:Wolf benut de box nog maar even nu het nog kan. En wat een lieve tekening.Maar ik begrijp heel goed dat het nu lang genoeg geduurd heeft, dus heel veel sterkte met de allerlaatste loodjes!

  4. this to my face last week. Somehow, these dolts see the prospects for their personal sales getting better…if only Mr. Clotpoll could change his attitude.The neurosis and idiocy of this kind of thought is so overwhelming, I usually can’t respond when faced with it.

  5. Ay, no me hagas esto, Kako, que todavía falta mucho para la cena!!! Mis tripas están rugiendo, igual las oyes :)Me encanta el pan de panini y me pirran las verduras asadas, así que qué podría pedir más de un bocadillo? Espero que haya suerte en el concurso!Por cierto, las fotos son preciosas

  6. http://www./ says:

    Hey, you’re the goto expert. Thanks for hanging out here.

  7. Wow, thanks Danial. But the pleasure is all mine. I started as a long term GERD sufferer. My research and writing has been a very pleasurable 7 year journey. Seeing things through a new lens (new theory) is very rewarding. Everything you read looks different.You might be right. Tapering in your case makes sense.

  8. I have a 4 year old Cali-king snake. I had a daughter a couple years back and I stopped handling him because I didn’t like to touch the snake and then touch my newborn. Now the snake goes to snap at my hand when I go in to handle him, and I have been to afraid to get bitten. Is there a way I can go about retraining him to be friendly?

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