THE WARRIOR VS. THE EXPLORER: PART 2

My mom is one of those heroines people allude to on the news. You know the types that when spoken of make you say, “How’d she traverse those badlands to produce such good children.” (Lol Backdoor compliment of myself)

Yesterday I referenced Lapu-lapu the Filipino chieftain who resisted occupation by Spain and other underdogs both fictional and real. If I’ve learned my warrior spirit from anyone, it was the ultimate underdog – my mom. Born in Arkansas, raised by cousins, and unfairly treated by family mom persisted without the college education so coveted by today’s standards.

She drove a school bus for 30+ years and only recently retired to Arizona. I remember her drinking coffee around 4 a.m. in the morning, getting me out of bed and taking me to the sitter. To me she’s the pride of the Los Angeles Unified School District and she inhaled diesel fumes, put up with rowdy kids from the second largest school district in the nation and worked the “Late Buses” (overtime) to give my sister and I a chance.

There’s that archetype again – The heroine. The underdog warriors understand that they live for something greater than themselves which is why I had to learn not to live FOR basketball. My mother endured unspeakable things as a child and surely didn’t understand any of them. What kid does? Nevertheless, she matured and one day made a decision to do her best for her children – (echo) for her children.

You might say, we owe her a warrior’s resistance to the oppression the world administers. In other words, the least my sister and I could do is fight as she fought. Becoming an entreprenuer, writer, consultant, etc. will require the warrior spirit because there are Explorers out there who are driven by avarice to claim what isn’t theirs. They’ll take your passion and replace it with a job you do just to get by. They’ll tell you to waste your life seeking pleasure in the form of entertainment and sexual addiction. The Imperialists are for real. But everybody has inspiration and it ought to propel purpose.

I tried to just be a teacher, an admirable profession. I worked on church staff, an opportunity I still cherish. But if there’s a sliver of warrior-heart embedded in my chest, I know as you do that we live to serve that which is greater than ourselves. It’s never about me. If it was, “it” wouldn’t be worth fighting for.