Ambiguity/Struggle

"Hay hombres que luchan un día y son buenos. Hay hombres que luchan un año y son mejores. Hay hombres que luchan muchos años y son muy buenos. Pero hay los que luchan toda la vida. Esos son los imprescindibles." ~Bertolt Brecht

I find comfort in mutual exhortations to "continue to struggle," to "keep fighting." Uttered by colleagues and friends, these words affirm the profound, often unspeakable yet always shared experiences that emerge in the crucibles of solidarity.

The ambiguity of Brecht's words, however, evokes the mystery of inspiration. What, or whom, are we struggling against? What is it about the outcome--or is it the process--of such struggles that make them "indispensable?"

Brecht reminds me that the unspoken may be unspeakable. What if, after all, our most formidable enemies are not external to us, but rather reside in our midst? What if the impulses to resist and revolt are traced to their origins? Do we dare admit our mundane familiarity, and even intimacy, with the spectral and grotesque horrors we have declared ostensibly to be our enemies?