Float

(This picture is scanned from a postcard I bought at the MOMA in New York in 2005.  It is a work by Christopher Wool called “Untitled, 1988.”)

Many people are currently writing about what Muhammad Ali meant to them.  To me, he was a touchstone for survival.

I don’t get boxing.  I try to avoid hitting people.  I try to avoid getting hit.  I deeply respect the athletic requirements of the sport, the essential strength, endurance, and grace needed to compete.  I somewhat understand the idea of athletic endeavor as battle.  I just don’t see that the battle needs to involve actual beating of other people.

Metaphorically, however, Ali gave me what I needed to make it through some of the worst parts of my depression journey.  I played Rope-a-Dope with the Depression Monster.  My goal was to take whatever it dished out for as many rounds as it took to get the monster to wear out and then smash that sucker.

Beyond pure survival, Ali provided an example of what one might want to survive for.  He was a man of principle, a fighter who would not fight for something he did not believe in and who would fight like crazy to advance causes he loved.

I am grateful for his life and example.