I have never considered myself much of a fighter, but I also do not consider myself a quitter. The competitor in me has now acknowledge that my greatest source of adversity comes from within. Internally conflicted, developing strategies and approaches for coping is quite the difficult process. Like a migratory animal in a world of global warming, I find myself reactive instinctively, and yet confusedly.
Certainly, I am one to say that I don't care about what other people say about me, but that would be a falsity. I am sure that when people think of me, the first adjective that comes to mind is not "strong". I am not one to argue with my lack of physical prowess, but I would not consider myself weak, in any sense. Part of me suffers through hours of painful tattooing to prove to myself that I can take the physical pains of life, partly associating the endurance with the possibility of the future pain I may have to tolerate. Additionally, I feel as though people may see me as a stronger and braver person because I have never had the opportunity to do so.
I suppose I am considering all of this because, in teaching characterization and character traits to students, the concept of bravery and courage are often associate with heroic characters found within fictional stories. Ironically, the aforementioned traits are so easily identified, yet we often overlook the more difficult and realistic human associations with courage and bravery. Again, I do not feel confident enough to call myself brave or courageous, but I will identify with stubborn.
Of all the things I am, a quitter is not me. I don't back down. I may get angry, but often that anger motivates and fuels me. That's where Dylan Thomas, and my English-obsessed ways, surface. I read and reread the following poem tonight in an effort to refocus my life in the face of adversity:
DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
To me, it is clear that the speaker of the poem is attempting to express contempt for a mere resignation towards death. It appears that it is neither honorable or appropriate to accept death and a predetermined fate. We should all fight against impending death rather than passively acquiescing to death's silent request.
Thomas divides the poem into four separate parts in order to build upon the idea that raging against the dying of the light is a valid approach to not only death, but also, more implicitly, against the darkness and tribulations that may frequently arise in life. In the opening stanza, the speaker introduces the message of battling against passivity only to succeed the introduction with four paragraphs of examples of fighting against the dying of the light. The continued repetition of this key phrase, "Rage, rage against the dying of the light," builds upon itself to provide emphasis.
Later, the tone becomes far more emotionally charged and personal as the speaker talks about his father. In many ways, one could read this poem and provide the suggestion in an analysis of "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" saying it is as a statement about living a strong life and refusing to go down quietly.
To my point I come: I shall rage on. I may not always emerge victorious and my sphere of influence is, often times, rather limited and beyond my control, but never will I merely accept the unacceptable. Where I am is where I am meant to be, but it doesn't mean I can't fight for more in a brave and courageous manner, even if it goes unnoticed.
