boxing glovesI’ve been trying to figure out what to write about.  I blew off a lot of steam at the end of the year and hurled myself into the new year filled with positivity and intention.  And, I’m working it!  But, I’m always looking for a story, an angle, an intersection to look around and find some unique image to share.  Thanks to my good friend Claire and her Project for Kindness blog today, I found something fun.  It’s a very simple writing prompt.  Another blogger, Lisa-Jo Baker heads up what she calls a “flash mob for writers” on Fridays where she selects a topic and asks other writers to pull together a piece in 5 minutes.  So, I just have 5 minutes to write on the topic du jour – FIGHT.  Freewriting, no editing, no thinking.  This will be pure free-association.  I apologize in advance for typos!

Here we go!

The word fight connotes such negativity for me.  I think about my entire childhood.  Fighting was the norm.  My parents fought, my siblings fought, we all fought.  It was constant and brutal and ugly.  I hated it.  I hate fighting.  I do it myself.  I cannot deny that my husband and I have had some of the most brutal, relentless fights I have ever experienced.  And I hate every second of them.  I am a peaceful person.  I would rather discuss and negotiate and acknowledge and appreciate.  But, I am hot-headed and half Italian and stubborn and, sometimes, looking for a fight.  As much as I hate them, I sometimes will them on.  And I really dislike that about myself.

The fighting has subsided in recent years.  It has calmed down a lot.  Mostly because I think about my kids.  I don’t want them to be as uncomfortable with fighting as I am.  Fights feel like a dead-end.  There is no easy way back.  They are so violent and hurtful.  And, often, so unproductive.  I want them to see healthy alternatives to fighting.  I want them to think about the word fight as an internal drive.  I will fight my way to where I need to go.  Rather than I will fight with someone I love.

I cannot stop the fighting.  My kids do it constantly but they have an amazing ability to love each other and move on.  There is resentment but it is not deep.  There is no true hostility.  It is silly fighting.  It is pushing each other’s buttons.  They don’t fight productively but they also don’t fight abusively.

I add to my 2014 list of intentions to try to fight less.  I’m hanging up my gloves for a while. This was a great reminder.

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