Resisting Change

Some people might say that I was a late bloomer, I’m still not sure what scale they were using, considering most scales I’ve seen has an end. I was already accustomed to civilian life, all the freedoms our country had to offer. For me to be able to adapt to military life, the need for open-mindedness had to be at the forefront of change. I had to accept the fact that I’m allowing people I don’t know to poke around in my head. A decision I didn’t take lightly. As long as I was willing to go along with the process for the right reasons, what can go wrong, right? I can begin with resistance. Resistance is one of the most powerful actions, especially when half the heart is behind the motion. There is no voluntary decision to give up freedom when you already had a taste. All that resistance was hindering my ability to focus on the task which was to complete basic training, and report to my unit. There were times in that period where I was able to quiet the screams of resistance by reflecting on my reasons for enlisting. Quieting the mind was one of the most difficult tasks I ever had to perform. The screams eventually disappeared, free will was shelled in by a man on a mission. A soldier was born. Right after basic training the first time, I was deployed. It was about 2 months from the time I graduated to the time my boots hit the ground. Pace is important, knowing when to have patience and when to go 100 mph.

Shame comes and goes, sometimes it’s just an instant message from the darkness. It hides itself under the anger and emptiness. It’s the trifecta, a pot belly stove’s internal life. The dreariness of the inside covered in a thick, slow drip of emotions. A flame suspended in the middle, waiting for the fire’s fuel to ignite the soul, and release the power of a new perception.

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