Smile and die
Two American soldiers at the frontline waiting for the battle to begin, talk to each other. It was the winter of 1944. Bastogne, Ardennes. 101st Airborne Division. The best of the best.
The first soldier is trembling, not with cold. Let’s call him Micheal. The other one is completely, totally calm. His name might be Peter.
The eye of the storm. Quiet minutes. Birds are dead or gone. December. Some snow. You can hear the Germans whisper a hundred yards away.
Michael looks at Peter and asks, “How can you be so calm? Aren’t you afraid?”
Peter responds, “Of what? That the Krauts will kill us?”
Peter continues, “You and I, buddy, we are already dead. Already dead, buddy.”
Micheal didn’t say anything. He went quiet.
He firmly held his gun. Without saying anything at all.
Peter was smiling, barely, but smiling.
What was the Peter knew? What calmness filled his heart?
You have a mental illness. Maybe for life. You fight. You win some battles. You lose some battles. But, it’s the up and downs that kill you. Every time. You see, you fight yourself. It is your lust for life fighting your death wish. Both yours.
Why don’t you try to be like Peter?
Lose. Give up. You just lose. No more winnings. No ups from which you fall down. It’s the fall that hurts. It’s the fall. Every time.
You smile at the devil and say, “You win.”, and then you die.
Nothing happens. You see, you are still here, dead but alive. Once dead you can do whatever you want to. You are the strongest, coolest badass. You beat the devil. Peter did.
He still fought afterwards. But on his own terms. Because he didn’t care anymore. No more scars. No more suffering. He went through hell willingly. Holding his trusty gun.
So. Every morning you wake up, wash your face and look yourself in the mirror.
Smile. And die, like Peter did. Then, smile some more.
Now, go on. Live that day to the fullest. Because you don’t have anything to lose anymore.
Whoever tries to keep their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life will preserve it. (Luke 17:33)