Striking Back

He sits across from me in a dim café and asks why.  Why, Why, WHY?  Why must life be so damned hard?  Why must we fall, pull ourselves wearily off the rough pavement, take another brave step, only to be knocked back down again?  Where is the meaning, the reason, the purpose, or even the pink neon sign declaring "You're On The Right Track - Keep Going.  Reward 50 Miles Ahead.  Totally Worth It."  Where is the comfort, the deep breath, the lit path?  How dark is this endless night, with its lonely chill and gnawing desperate ache?  And where, tell me, where - where in the fuck - is the dawn?

I answer with four of my very favorite words.

The Empire Strikes Back.

He shoots me a look - a look I love.  It is a charming combination of "are you actually going to say something interesting?" mingled with "you are so much weirder than I originally thought".  Why do I love this particular look?  Because I am about to launch into my sole authentic theory on life. Please don't misunderstand - I say this with no bravado.  I've been on this crazy planet for 33 years and 3 months now and can honestly lay claim to only one solid piece of wisdom; a single scrap of merciful insight that has been granted me after a lifetime of scraped knees and noses.  Not exactly a source of pride.  On the other hand, it's nice to pass along, when given the chance.  And seeing as how our food has not arrived yet and he is trapped on his side of the vinyl booth, I begin...

One day I noticed that when I asked people what their favorite Star Wars movie is, they almost invariably answered with A New Hope or Return of the Jedi.  This came as no surprise and is typical of many trilogies.  The beginning is full of new people, new places, plots, excitement, hustle, bustle and all sorts of hijinx.  The ending, obviously, bears resolution to six-plus hours of epic struggle, villains are vanquished, heroes are heralded, cue triumphant music, celebratory merriment and the gratuitous slapping of backs. 

OF COURSE YOU LIKE IT.

But the true genius and imperative key to the success of the entire Star Wars industry, in fact, lies very humbly hidden in the most unlikely place - the middle.  That's right.  Believe it or not, the real reason you love Luke and Leia, Han and Chewy, Obi, Yoda, Boba and even Jabba is the all-so-important yet wildly under-appreciated

Empire Strikes Back.

Why?  Why, Why WHY?

Because it is there, in the in-between-ness, that the magic happens.  In the mist and muck of Dagobah, on the disturbingly rickety catwalks of a Cloud City air shaft - these are the backdrops to the soul-stretching trials Luke will endure,  transforming him from whiney teenager to Jedi.
Freaking Jedi, people!

  All those heart-warming triumphs in Return Of The Jedi  are impossible without The Empire Strikes Back. Could Luke have resisted the temptation of the dark side without first facing his worst fears in that weird cave Yoda sent him into?  Nope.  Would he have had the courage to march into Jabba's palace and make all those balls-y threats if he hadn't fought Vader, lost, flung himself down that airshaft and lived to tell about it?  Hell no!  Would Luke possess the compassion to save his father, the baddest dude in the known universe (who blew up whole planets just to watch Leia break a sweat), if he hadn't gone through the character-building process of accepting who he truly was and contemplating the profound power of the force?  Hellllllll no!

 Watch A New Hope and try to contend that Luke simply woke up one morning and was like "I think I'll stop throwing tantrums about power converters and save the galaxy, as well as my evil father's soul, cuz I'm feeling quite a bit more noble than I was yesterday."  Impossible.  Luke had to sweat and bleed, have a hand sliced off, cling to a TV antenna for dear life and carry a muppet around on his back while stomping through swamps and levitating stuff.   He had to come to terms with the fact that he'd kissed his sister and his dad was trying to end his life.  He had to slog through all of that and a whole lot more before he got his due.  The resolution, the joyous, badass, high-fiving resolution to it all came only because he slogged first.  It is the slogging that made the finish line both possible and a true triumph.  It's the gut-wrenching awful middle that made the ending so damn good!

"Can you see it?" I say to the boy across the table. "You are in the middle.  the slogging.  the hard work.  the cave. the trials. the muppet in the backpack.  the soul-searching.  
The Empire Strikes Back, dude."

"You are Luke!  And you've got all this amazingness inside you just dying to come forth! You know it and I know it, but it doesn't start oozing out of your pores one day - you must go through your own Empire Strikes Back first.  You've gotta run and sweat and bleed and yell "no, No, That's Not True!  That's Impossible!" with that really unsettling trying-not-to-bawl-like-a-baby look on your face.  You must lose your freaking hand!  Maybe even lose your mind for a bit.  You must suffer."

"Your Return of The Jedi is on it's way, no doubt about it.  I can see it coming and boy, it's gonna be awwwwwwwessssssommmmme.  Blow-up-the-death-star awesome."

"You are Luke!  But nobody likes the middle as much as they like the beginning or the ending.  That's human nature.  And yet, the middle is what brings about the really good stuff so hey - don't write yourself off yet.  Fight.  Grit your teeth.  Dig deep.  Use the force, dude."

"You are a luminous being, not this crude matter.  You are Jedi."

Thus ended my little pep talk - to him, anyways. 
Now I offer it to you.

Do you ever feel like the picture above - like the entire universe has aligned against you?  Like it's all just too hard, too painful, too dark, too overwhelming - like things have simply stopped making sense?  Like you have been getting the crap kicked out of you for as long as you can remember and nothing ever seems to come of it or turn out right or even just give you a moment to catch one ragged, spent breath?  Like the feel of rough pavement against your scraped cheek is better than the insurmountable task of pulling yourself back up again?  Like it's just not worth it anymore?

The. Empire. Strikes. Back.  You are Luke.  Don't write yourself off yet.  You are Jedi.  Hang in.

Sing it loud with me...