The benefit of living what I call an “examined” life (i.e. turning over the stones you’re standing on and looking closely at what’s underneath) is that you discover a whole lot about yourself. Sometimes you discover helpful insight or a limiting pattern of behavior.  Sometimes you discover something not so pretty about yourself. But the beauty of each discovery is that you get the chance to change.

While facing one of the most difficult situations of my life, a situation I believe we all find ourselves in at one time or another, I discovered a real gem. It was during a time of being “wronged” by another. What I mean by “wronged” is being mistreated, blamed, judged, lied about or lied to.  What I discovered flies in the face of our natural reactions to such unpleasantness. However, the discovery was the only response that enabled me to shed all kinds of yucky feelings and free myself from a very unpleasant person.

When we are being wronged we want justice, we want honor. We want the wrong-doer to own their wrong-doing. This wanting, as I discovered, will devour you more so than the wrong-doing itself.  It holds the power to consume you, making you miserable. It will seek out the fighter in you and ask you to betray your wisdom.

The wanting motivates us to move into the boxing ring to fight for justice, to seek our revenge, to retaliate until surrender. However, the reality is every time we step into the ring we lose.  By virtue of participating in the game, we lose the very power we wish to claim. 

The ultimate revenge, if you want to look at it this way, is to live as if your truth never needs defending. How do you do this? Stay above the fighting mentality. Refuse to enter the ring. Refuse to allow this person’s wrong-doing to cross the circle enclosing your life. 

In the moment will this choice satisfy your urge to fight back? Maybe not. In the moment, will it calm the anger you feel about the injustice? Maybe not. In the moment, will it satisfy your urge to defeat? Maybe not. What we need to hold onto during the moment of choice is this: the wrong-doer is playing a game. She feeds off the energy of the game. She finds the purpose of her life inside the game.

Take off your boxing gloves and turn your back on the ring and there is no game.

And if there is no game, what is there? An empty ring. A lone fighter standing in the dark. In your silent absence, the fighter is left alone to face the cold shadows of herself. And somewhere off in the distance, you will be standing in the light of your highest power.

When I envision the fighter alone in a dark ring, stripped of her cause, my anger subsides and I feel compassion and sadness for her.

On living up to yourself,

Carrie