I have recently taken up hiking. I mean, why not? Colorado has some of the best places to hike and some of the most beautiful terrain in the entire country to pursue such an adventure. I have a friend who wants to hike the Manitou Incline 52 times this year and is already well on her way. Add to that the stress of dealing with work issues, loss of work, career changes, financial stress and personal stress in daily life, and it creates a lot of stress and tension in my life.
I have also observed tension and stress at play in the inter-workings of the federal government, state government and even local political races and issues. Stress and tension have become a huge part of our life in this country. And I am reminded daily of that, because I suffer horribly from stress headaches.
P.E.! Those two letters were the most dreaded in the English language, as far as I was concerned. They sent a tinge of dread up my spine when I heard them for the first time in the seventh grade.
With the slamming of those giant metal gym doors, I was transported into a hostile, alien environment full of strange sounds, sights and smells. The smells, in particular, were the stuff of which memories were made. Wafting through the air was the same fragrance that accompanied the sneakers I stored under my bed.
The sovereign who ruled over that universe was a gruff, intimidating fellow who called each of his subjects by their last name. Life in P.E. was a never-ending struggle for survival against the Neanderthal-type characters who occupied that dimension. There were floggings, towel-poppings and other painful initiations to endure. And, if having to undress and shower in a room full of strangers was not already bad enough, there were the games, the most dreaded things of all.
Occasionally Coach (as the sovereign of this realm was called) would assemble all the inhabitants of his domain and organize a spectacle for his viewing pleasure. He liked obstacle courses and endurance courses and, periodically, he would have himself a tug-of-war. For this spectacle, he usually divided the teams pretty evenly - all the scrawny guys on one side (of which I was usually one of the scrawniest) and all the Neanderthals on the other side.
This seemed to greatly enhance Coach's viewing pleasure. He seemed to enjoy watching the other team drag my team around the gym or, worse yet, through the mud and mire of the playing field.
I would not have traded the hardened wad of chewing gum on the inside of my locker door for P.E. Looking back, though, all these years later, I see that there was actually some value in it. I learned something about life through my experience with P.E. What I learned came at an enormous price and has taken years to extrapolate, so I hope everyone appreciates it.
What I learned was this: when you have equal tension on both ends of the rope, your bottom and knees are spared a painful beating.
Is that not great? I think I am actually on to something. I think I have discovered the eternal purpose behind P.E. We are supposed to discover that there is value in tension. Seeing it at the moment of conflict might have been hard, but all involved were better off when each end of the rope had equal outward force. It provided what we call balance.
Through the ages, a bloody and obscene battle has been played out on battlefields all over the world. The victor's trophy was the right to wear the badge of sainthood while branding the opponent a heretic. The conflict was often savage. As each skirmish drew to a close, the winners were paraded through the streets of history on white charges to the accolades of cheering crowds. The losers were branded heretics. They often met with the cruelest of punishments for their deviation from the accepted dogmas and traditions, whether Civil War, Revolutionary War, religious wars or any manner of marches for equal rights.
In reality, the term heretic is a strange one. Although its stain is almost indelible and, although it conjures up visions of lies and dishonest motives, it often has little to do with rightness or wrongness. It has been a title handed out after a conflict, awarded to one side or a person by popular vote. Truth is not always popular and often loses when popular opinion is the determining factor.
The age-old heretic hunt continues, however. We live in a civilized age far removed from crosses of wood, Spanish Inquisition, public hangings and the public burning of people at the stake.
Nevertheless, we are still quite fond of the heretic brand. We reserve it for the foreheads of those who think differently than we do on the important issues. Similar to the scarlet letter worn in the writings of Nathaniel Hawthorne.
We do not mind a brief mental tug-of-war, but since we see no value in ideas that run counter to our own, we are often quick to let go of the rope. We end the contest, scoff in scorn and derision, brand a few heretics and huddle with those who agree with us, cobbling together our own community full of hate and discontent. After all, misery loves company, as Christopher Marlowe said in his play Doctor Faustus.
The time has come to reconsider our view of this ongoing tension. Is it possible that the tension between the various sides is productive? Maybe we should hang on to the ropes a little longer. But, the conflicts continue to rage. The names of the issues change from time to time, but the fervor with which they are debated continues undiminished. I am finally waking up to the idea that conflict has been going on for centuries and will be around long after this generation is an obscure memory.
Maybe, instead of letting go of the ropes when we feel a little tug in the opposing direction, we should try to get along. If we eliminate those influences would we be better off as individuals? No. We need each other.
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