My trojan horse

I was sitting here tonight watching Troy. I saw the movie in the theater, and the day that I learned it came out on video, I was driven by some unseen force to buy it. Literally, I had to stop what I was doing, drive to the store, proceed directly to the DVD section (do not pass go, do not collect $200), and grab the first copy I could find. Then, I guarded it like it was the last piece of cake on earth, until I could pay for it and get the hell out of the store. It’s not that it’s my absolute favorite movie in the world. I am not overly fascinated by the Iliad or Homer. Though I do have an affinity for historical drama (accurate or not), I originally went to see Troy because of my undying adoration for Brad Pitt, which by the way will be discussed in more detail in an upcoming blog. Call me shallow or whatever, but I couldn’t pass up the chance to see Brad, legs, arm and chest bared, for three glorious hours. And of course, he didn’t disappoint.

But for some reason, as I was sitting in that dark theater by myself, it wasn’t really glorious Achilles’ story that moved me, but rather that of Hector, the oldest prince of Troy. Hector was the honorable son, the one who did all the right things. He loved his wife, his family, and his country, seemingly unconditionally. He followed the laws, he led the armies, and worked for the good of his people, often at the sacrifice of his own happiness and love. And when his hothead little brother decides to seduce and kidnap a Greek queen, it’s Hector that comes to his rescue to kick some Spartan ass. A good man by any estimation. And what's Hector's great reward? Death. He’s loved by his people, he’s respected by enemies, and all the while his body is burning and on its way to the great beyond.

I wake up a lot of mornings feeling just like Hector. His struggle pulls at me heart and soul, and I recognize the anguish that shows through every scar, cut and scratch on his face. I love my family and I try to do what is right. When all hell breaks lose, I’ve set aside my goals and happiness to try and make it better for them. Throughout my life, and especially in recent years, protecting those that I care about the most has been the one of the heaviest burdens I’ve had to bear. And just like Hector, I die a little every single day.

I do want to continue to live an honorable life. But seeing the First Prince being dragged across the ground behind Achilles’ chariot always serves as a wake up call to me. Every person has to pick their own battles. I’m reminded again that my life’s purpose is not to sit around trying to protect people that, in the end, really hold the keys to success or failure in their own hands. Despite all of Hector’s brave battles and admirable shows of courage, his city falls, his father is killed. And in those moments that I try the hardest to keep it all together, I can see that really I’m fighting a losing battle too.

I know that the Hector’s sacrifice was important. There comes a time when we all have to give of ourselves for some greater purpose. But for once, I am going to focus on me, and accomplish the great things that I know that I am capable of, and maybe even meant to do. So as always, I am crying my tear for you, Hector. But I refuse to lay down my own sword just yet. I think I’ve found the energy to move to the next battle along my path.