
In Deadpool and Wolverine (2024), Mr. Paradox of the TVA (Time Variant Authority), played by Matthew Macfadyen, tells Wade Wilson, who is the unkillable mutant superhero Deadpool, played by Ryan Reynolds, that he is the only one who can save his world. He says, “This is your chance to be a hero among heroes.” Deadpool is the motor mouth, smart ass who possesses great martial arts skills and immeasurable regenerative powers that makes him nearly immortal.
Wade sadly says, “I just want to matter.”
However, Deadpool doesn’t know how to be a hero. He’s a fanboy of Logan, the X-Men hero Wolverine, played by Hugh Jackman. He travels throughout the Multiverse in search of the Wolverine, who can teach him to be a hero, so that he can save his world and the ones he loves. He finds him. Although he’s not exactly, what he expected.
Wolverine has a Come to Jesus talk with Marvel Jesus, Deadpool, about why he will never save the world. He thinks Deadpool is a tiresome, sad, attention starved “pick”. Logan says, “I wish I could say you’ll die alone, but it’s one of God’s best jokes that you can’t die! Except that’s on all of us!”
The amazing Ryan Reynolds poignantly captures Deadpool’s profound pained sadness even behind his red mask. No, Deadpool doesn’t matter. Worse. He’s a joke.
In the movies, Deadpool is too much of a smart-ass character for me. Then I realize that I have been such a smart-ass, too. Since I was a little boy, Dad scared me to my soul. Whatever I did or didn’t do only made him so angry at me. Although I never knew which, I profoundly got that I was not the son that Dad wanted. I was his greatest disappointment in life. I didn’t matter to Dad. I didn’t matter to anyone. I got really good at hating on myself.
As teenager, I covered my self-loathing by being such a smart-ass. I was the short fat ugly geek, who no girl would ever look at. At least if I tried being smarter than everyone and put myself down first, maybe I wouldn’t get hurt inside. Like the burn disfigured Wade Wilson, I made fun of everything and everyone, because it was not fun being me. I hurt inside. I was sad. I was a joke. Consequently, I spent much of my adult life proving that I mattered, that I was worthy of love.
I work with my therapist Lance Miller to heal my childhood trauma and depression. When I first started working with Lance, I already had my 4th degree black belt in hating on me. I would know, because I had a 4th degree black belt in Aikido at the time.
I had made a difference and mattered in the past, but I thought that I no longer could. That made me feel so very sad and worthless. Although I never contemplated suicide, I would go to sleep at night praying I would die before I awoke the next morning.
The late Mizukami Sense, who taught me Aikido for 25 years, said, “Just train.” Sensei said, “Practice makes the unnatural natural.” I couldn’t just love myself from the space I was in. Yet, I could hate on myself less and less every day. I practiced that over, and over, and over again.
Over the years, I learned to love myself for who I am and forgive myself for who I’m not. My spiritual twin actor, martial artist, and therapy participant Dolph Lundgren said, “You have to love yourself.” Amen. Dolph and I both grew up with abusive fathers. We’ve become the best men that we can be.
Werner Erhard said, “When you get that you choose who you are going to be in any given moment, then making a difference becomes your authentic self-expression.” When I love and forgive mine own self in the moment, I can make a difference for others.
Aikido Founder Morihei Ueshiba said, “True victory is victory over oneself.” As in Aikido, I work on myself, not on others. That’s all I can do. When I am the best that I can be, I can make a difference for others. I can bring them up with me. That matters, too.
My love for Aikido and writing creates the possibility of making a difference. In Aikido, I pass on all that the late Mizukami Sensei and Ishibashi Sensei taught me. Take a glancing blow for what’s meaningful to you. You’re not always going to get away scot-free. Ishibashi Sensei said, “The purpose of Aikido is to release your fear.” Enter what you fear and open up. Let go your fear inside that you’re not good enough, your fear that you don’t matter. Although that fear inside may never completely disappear, every time you enter what you fear, you free yourself. You get to be more of you.
I write about loving and forgiving yourself on The Good Men Project with my editor Lisa Hickey. In the First Noble Truth of Buddhism there will always be suffering in life. The Fourth Noble Truth is the path to end suffering. On my path to end suffering, I love myself for who I am and forgive myself for who I’m not. Everyone has to find your own path. Perhaps, what I have experienced makes some difference, and serves as a guide. Maybe, that matters to someone out there reading.
We all want to matter. Especially to those we love. That I matter is a possible legacy. I will never know my legacy by design. I don’t define my legacy. Others I’ve made a difference for, others for whom I mattered, shall determine my legacy for me long after I’m gone.
I define the legacy for those who’ve made a difference for me, those who mattered to me. I am forever grateful for them. I also let them know, now. Nothing, but mad love and respect for them.
In life, I work on myself, not on others. I try to make a difference for others in what I do and who I am. Perhaps, that all matters in the bigger picture. Maybe, I matter, too. That is my sincere wish.
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Photo by Michael Ameteku on Unsplash
