Why Sometimes My Life Is Round 9

Life doesn’t always play fair. It throws punches when you least expect them, and sometimes they land harder than you think you can take. In those moments, I remind myself of one of the greatest battles ever fought in the ring; not for a championship belt, but for pride, resilience, and heart: Round 9 of Arturo ‘Thunder’ Gatti vs. ‘Irish’ Micky Ward.

If I’m ever feeling particularly low and feel like it’s all getting too much, I watch this passionate round of boxing and gain such inspiration and basically a well needed kick up the arse!

That round was balance and chaos, and unbelievable courage rolled into three minutes. The commentators could not contain their excitement. Ward’s body shots folded Gatti in half, but instead of crumbling, Gatti fought back with a ferocity that defied pain. Both men were exhausted and battered, yet neither yielded. It wasn’t about winning; it was about refusing to give in!

Sometimes my life feels something like that awe inspiring round. I’m hurting, lonely, I’m tired, and the temptation to give in whispers louder than reason. But then I think of those two warriors, and I tell myself: Never give in! If they could endure that storm, I can endure mine.

There is an old samurai saying:

“Pain is my ally. It lets me know I’m still alive.”

The quote “Pain is your friend, your ally… it lets you know you’re not dead yet” actually comes from the 1997 film G.I. Jane (played by Demi Moore), spoken by Master Chief John Urgayle (played by Viggo Mortensen).

The full phrasing is:

“Pain is your friend, your ally. It will tell you when you are seriously injured, it will keep you awake and angry and remind you to finish the job and get the hell home. But you know the best thing about pain? … It lets you know you’re not dead yet.”

Even though the line originates in G.I. Jane, its philosophy echoes Bushidō and martial traditions: pain is not weakness, but awareness.

Throughout my so far more than two decades of my degenerative disease, I have arrived at different levels of disability, for example: impaired vision, damage to the part of my brain that deals with my balance, using a stick, using a wheelchair, serious memory issues, the inability to stand, severe pain, having a suprapubic catheter, reduced function to the top half of my body, the loss of use of my left arm and hand, reduced function of my right side - all pretty shit and as I reached each of these notable stages I have said, if this gets any worse, that’s it. That is, it, meaning I would take my own life. But somehow, I came to terms with the new level of disability, navigated my way through the darkness, and found the tenacity to carry on. This is not necessarily a testament to me, moreover, a testament to the human condition. Our ability to be able to endure ever increasing levels of pain and suffering. My heart goes out to those dear souls, that have lost their struggle and have succumb to the turmoil in their minds. I pray they have found the peace they were desperately searching for, my thoughts are with them and their families too. With respect to suicide, and when you are in that state of mind - you are only ever one step away. Unfortunately, too many of my brothers have taken that step recently and I hope they have found serenity.

Tragically, the great Arturo ‘Thunder’ Gatti mentioned above, lost his final fight on July 11, 2009 – RIP Champ.

Whatever means you use to gain the strength to carry on in the fight, in whatever personal battles you may face, I implore you to do so, try to use the inspiration that surrounds us. Talk to someone, please. We all have our own personal struggles on whatever level and for whatever reason. I wish you all the very best in facing up to them and fighting the good fight.

Remember, you never know what somebody else is going through, how hard they are fighting. Something you might find to be a trivial problem that could be easily resolved, might seem insurmountable to someone else. Be available for others. Be kind to each other. Be the hand you would want to hold if you were in their position.

This morning, I spoke to one of my girls who is travelling Australia. She had just got back from hiking in the Blue Mountains. She told me how after witnessing the beautiful views on offer, the skies clouded over, and the heavens opened; just as they were setting off on a three-hour trek. She told me how it was a delight walking in the rain, a welcome tonic for the heat, and that she was really grateful for the experience. My girls Grace and Ivy are always so positive, and I get such inspiration from them, they are a blessing. This call has given me the perfect ending for this blog:

“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass… it’s about learning to dance in the rain.”  - Vivian Greene