Internal War

When winning isn't the strategy.

Photo by Jusdevoyage on Unsplash

There is a war being waged eternally, internally within me. I suppose I should have recognized it as a war rather than a campaign, more a state of being than circumstance. Two opposing sides, both heralding their arms, but only one side attacking. The other side purely defends. Scars form, are scabbed over and the war resumes over one issue or another. The fact that one side feels deserving of a win and the other does not seems to make little difference, the war rages on. I call it a war because a debate is rarely cruel, just factual, evidential. But here, deep cuts form wounds and sometimes a sword is so finely honed it cuts a head clean off. Death comes when certain optimisms struggle to resurface, felled by a driven, impetuous attack. Rarely is the undeserving side decidedly malicious, it only operates protectively, but the end result is still a certain death, even if the only thing dying is optimism. Interestingly, there is one warrior on the battlefield that is more bruised and battered than any other, but still returns, battle ready if weary: HOPE. The undeserving side has not managed to kill off hope, at least not yet. I can feel the closeness with which it has come, I have seen hope laid up on a cot, bleeding out. But somehow, it has managed repair, even if it has had to lay idly for long periods.

I’d love to say the fight was between two organized militias each having a general, subordinate leaders and foot soldiers. Unfortunately for the undeserving side, the general has only appeared recently, unaware that there was a war raging. Sort of like stumbling into an unexpected argument that one could tell had deep roots, but without awareness or context of the beginnings. No, these were wild, unkempt recruits, those who had picked up beliefs, strategies and experiences haphazardly along the way. The other side is a group of defenders, never directly picking up arms, but using their shields and defenses wittingly and willingly, hope behind them all.

Each time the undeserving side “wins”, it doesn’t really win at all. It survives, and fights on. The problem in this war is the undeserving side isn’t looking for a win, it’s fighting for perceived safety of the familiar. Even partly it knows that the familiar is awful, but it doesn’t know what else to do. Surrender to the other side feels like death, so it keeps fighting. Even if it is coaxed out of the foxhole and shown a bit of possibility, or good and ventures forward a little, the moment pain surfaces, it retreats again, ready to fight. So the war continues.

Even the recently appeared general to the undeserving side, having some awareness has tried to reason, mediate and negotiate, with marginal success. Each time possibility appears and steps are taken to talk with the other side, the fear that permeates the undeserving side gathers them close and whispers news of fatalities, statistics - doom. It assures them surrender means death, and although the general tries to communicate that with death there can be rebirth, the ‘undeservings’ are only interested in preservation. So, talks continually break down.

Once and awhile, the defenders will call in external reinforcements. It is great at finding externals that catch the ‘undeservings’ off guard. When hope generates enough of a stir, sometimes a spell like state is cast, and hope can make progress. At times, hope has made enough progress to get the encampments to move very far distances, to new territories, even.

In so much unfamiliarity, the ‘underservings’ are distracted and cannot operate in a coordinated way. Often, in their distraction they forget to be fearful, and then there is change, even if small. Small changes can lead to bigger shifts, and hope understands momentum, so it keeps reinforcements coming in the steadiest stream manageable.

I’m not sure how the war will end. Will it end when the ‘undeservings’ surrender? Does hope perish? It is unknown to me what the end will be. I don’t know what ‘winning’ looks like or how to quantify it. I only know that I’d like a ceasefire.